I Will Be Good At Making Bad
by agent m1
Summary: A story about love, evil, and ridiculous organizations. *chapter 10* Dumbledore has plans for Harry and Draco...
1. Death Eaters and DoughKnuts

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad  
  
Author: Agent M  
  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)  
  
Pairings: None yet. Slash to come.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.  
  
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net/wings) anyone else, just ask.  
  
Notes: My first HP fic, so I'm a little nervous. This is supposed to be humor so people are a tad but ooc, but that's what makes it fun.  
  
Warnings: Ambiguous!Lucius, Interior Design!Draco, and some other random crap.  
  
---  
  
If there was one good thing you could say about Voldemort it was that he was a patient man. He did wait nearly 10 years for someone to find him and allow him to possess their body after his untimely defeat. And even after losing a second time, he had bided his time, waiting to strike. However, these days his patience was wearing thin. It wasn't so much that Harry Potter would foil his plans again, but that his Death Eaters were a bunch of fools. Even now, as he stood watching them in the shadows of his super secret lair, Voldemort felt the all too familiar urge to throttle someone.  
  
One by one the Death Eaters apparated into his super secret lair then rushed over to a table against the far wall and tried to grab a jelly dough-knut before they ran out.  
  
((We interrupt this regular scheduled fan-fic to present The Doughnut: A History. A great wizard named Doranius invented the dough-knut and he named them after the wizarding money. Then one day a muggle discovered them and stole the idea changing it to doughnuts, but really that's for a different story.))  
  
Voldemort decided it was probably not a good thing that their mere presence annoyed him to no end, but he was an evil overlord and as such he needed evil minions. So Voldemort kept them around.  
  
Once the last of the Death Eaters arrived, looking like idiots attempting to eat doughnuts with the hoods of their Death Eater Robes(TM) up over their heads, Voldemort stepped from the shadows followed closely by Wormtail, looking more like a beaten puppy than someone who was attempting to be Voldemort's right hand man. He cleared his throat and the Death Eaters formed a semicircle around him. Voldemort looked around at all of them and rolled his snake-like eyes. "It's the best I can do," his inter monologue reminded himself.  
  
"Before we get started I need a progress report. Goyle, how are things at the ministry?" Voldemort asked a figure to his right.  
  
Across the circle someone stepped forward. "Very well, my Lord. Fudge suspects nothing, of course."  
  
"Indeed," Voldemort replied, annoyed that Goyle was not where he at first thought. "Lucius," he rounded on the figure next to Goyle, "and how are things in your operation?"  
  
The first man that Voldemort addressed stepped forward.  
  
"Oh, for crying out loud! Take off those damned hoods. They are for raids, when you are outside, all that stuff. You all bloody well know each other here!"  
  
They all pulled their hoods back at Voldemort's outburst.  
  
"Now, the status, Lucius?"  
  
"We seem to have run into some minor problems..." Lucius started.  
  
"Explain."  
  
"Its, my son, Draco. I have come to believe that he is a..." He looked around the room.  
  
"Spit it out!"  
  
"Flaming Fag." Lucius finished lamely. A startled gasp moved around the room. "I know! I mean, I know he liked to polish his broom handle a lot and that he had a thing for black thongs, but I thought that was normal," The group nodded. "And then yesterday I found him...knitting!"  
  
"No!" came the response from the Death Eaters.  
  
"Yes! I didn't even see it coming. Was it something I did? He couldn't have found my..." He laughed to himself then continued abandoning his first train of thought, "Did I not love him enough?!"  
  
Lucius sighed a big melodramatic sigh that only he could pull off and the Death Eaters circled around him.  
  
"You can't blame yourself, Malfoy. These things happen."  
  
"You always complained how much the boy shopped."  
  
"And he does dress well."  
  
Voldemort was getting frustrated. These were *his* minions and yet they were pawning over Malfoy. Of course, he reasoned that they would pawn over anything as shiny as Lucius' hair. But damn it, he hated being ignored. And that was where his psychiatrist said the problems began...  
  
Voldemort whipped out some parchment and wrote Lucius' name under "People who I will consider thinking about killing." The only other thing on the paper was, "Annoying gits who keep getting away that I want to kill: Harry Potter." Yes, Voldemort, was very organized when it came to his job.  
  
The Dark Lord put his list away, stamped his foot and cleared his throat. The Death Eaters fawning over Malfoy straightened and scattered back to their semicircle.  
  
"Malfoy, this is all very touching, I'm sure. And if I could feel anything other than hate, jealousy, and self-pity I might feel bad for you. But really I fail to see how Draco being gay is at all relevant," Voldemort said in his `I'm better than you are' voice.  
  
"I have reason to believe that my son fancies," He gulped, "Harry Potter."  
  
---  
  
Lucius apparated into his den more than a little upset. The weekly Death Eater meeting had not gone over well. First, someone took the last jelly dough-knut, probably Crabbe, he reasoned. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, he had practically out-ed his son to the group and almost broke down in front of the Dark Lord, no less.  
  
It wasn't so much that he valued the Dark Lord's opinion, really. The Death Eaters were more a practical thing for him. Join the ranks, learn to manipulate people as only an evil overlord can, and escape Narcissa once a week. And if it wasn't for the added perks of being a Death Eater, Lucius doubted he would have joined.  
  
But all of that didn't really matter at the moment. He needed to get to the bottom of his son's odd behavior. It wasn't everyday you saw a Malfoy male walking around knitting a silver and gold scarf.  
  
"Draco!" He called upstairs to his son, "We need to talk!"  
  
Draco came strolling down the stairs shaking his hands lightly and sat down across from where his father was pacing back and forth.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Draco, I realize that you are a little old for this, but there comes a time in a man's life when he begins to feel things..."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me about the birds and the bees?" Draco interrupted, "Because if you are, you're about 6 years too late."  
  
"I am?"  
  
"Of course you had Dobby tell me last time and let me tell you how disturbing that was at eleven. He kept getting off track, talking about how his master never gave him, how did he put it? `Permission to lose himself in throes of orgasmic pleasure.'"  
  
Mr. Malfoy spluttered and slid into his seat.  
  
"Good thing I didn't have to see him much after that, leaving for Hogwarts and all. Of course now he works there..."  
  
"Thank you Draco," Lucius said before his son could say anymore. "That was information I could have lived without knowing, kind of like the way Snape does that thing with... um, never mind."  
  
"Right. Well, I'm sure there is a reason you brought me down here," Draco said examining his still wet nails. "So, in the interest of saving time, why don't you tell me what you want."  
  
"I was trying to broach the subject carefully, but seeing as that didn't work... Draco, do you fancy your own?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You are strong. You are in control of the situation," Lucius breathed and Draco could hear just enough to remind himself to find a new hiding place for his father's self help books.  
  
"What was that?" Draco asked innocently.  
  
"Are you gay?!" Lucius yelled as he pushed the chair away and stood again.  
  
Draco raised his lined eyes and studied his father unsure if he was serious or not, then laughed.  
  
"You're serious?"  
  
"Does this seem like something I would joke about?"  
  
"Dad, where were you last Christmas eve?"  
  
"Don't change the subject," Lucius snarled.  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"I was here with you and Narcissa."  
  
"Right, well, where were you when I CAME OUT THAT NIGHT?!"  
  
"You did?"  
  
Draco sighed, "What part of `Mom, Dad, I'm gay' did you not understand?"  
  
"How did your mother take it?"  
  
"I received condoms and lubricant in my stocking the next morning."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I should be offended, you know."  
  
"Get over yourself, Draco."  
  
"That's typical. You don't even know I'm here until you want to know if I like guys. Why did you even ask?"  
  
"I want you to come to the next meeting with me," Lucius shrugged.  
  
"I fail to see the connection."  
  
"Draco, I will accept the fact that you prefer the cock..."  
  
"You don't have to say it that way," Draco spat.  
  
"But we need to continue as usual. This includes Death Eater meeting as well as regular muggle tormenting and antique collecting."  
  
"And you wonder why I'm gay," Draco mumbled.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Do I have to wear Death Eater Brand(TM) robes? Because they really do nothing for my figure."  
  
"Of course you do! Your figure should be the least of your worries. You are going to be with a bunch of middle-aged men and Snake-Man," A pause. "Oh, I understand, you like older men," Lucius put a comforting had on Draco's shoulder.  
  
"Right, Dad, you have it all figured out," Draco rolled his eyes, "Couldn't I just alter the robes a bit?"  
  
"No."  
  
But if I..."  
  
"Look, Draco I know what its like to want to show off your body to someone, like that time I bumped into Lupin wearing..." Lucius coughed and continued, "But the point is the Dark Lord picked out the robes for a reason."  
  
"I'm sure they work great for He-Who-Has-No-Fashion-Sense, but..."  
  
"Draco."  
  
"Fine!" Draco stormed out of the room, throwing the door open. "Damn it! I chipped my nail polish."  
  
That seemed to send Lucius over the edge. He buried his face in his hands and prepared for a mental breakdown. He brought his head down to the table with a resounding thud.  
  
"What happened?" Narcissa asked, rushing into the room.  
  
"My son is a fag!" Lucius exclaimed throwing himself back into his chair.  
  
"Well, obviously, Lucius," She said and walked away.  
  
---  
  
A week later Draco found himself standing in the corner of a room in Voldemort's super secret lair, which, as Draco had found out, was really a mansion charmed to look like a cave. Draco watched the Death Eaters argue over the dough-knuts and he finally understood where the "Eater" part of their name came from. The Death Eater Brand(TM) robes had been delivered to Draco that morning and thus he was unable to alter them in any way. He looked around the room in disgust. Not only was it poorly decorated, but also the whole operation was a joke. The super secret lair was just the tip of the ice burg and as for the Death Eaters, well; Draco was beginning to hope that his father had some ulterior motives for joining the ranks.  
  
Voldemort finally swept into the room in an over theatric manner that caused Draco to stifle a snigger. The Death Eaters, however, seemed quite impressed and quickly gathered around him like good little minions.  
  
"Do we have to do this every week?" Voldemort asked with an exasperated sigh. "How many times have we gone over when and when not to wear the hoods?"  
  
Around the room the Death Eaters faces came into view.  
  
"Ah, young mister Malfoy. So kind of you to join us today." Draco tried not to flinch under the snake like eyes.  
  
"A pleasure, I'm sure." Draco drawled.  
  
"You are not happy to be here." It wasn't a question.  
  
"Honestly, no. These robes are atrocious and the design and lay out of this `lair' is hideous." Some Death Eaters laughed nervously unsure of Draco was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.  
  
"Is that so?" Voldemort asked looking around the room. "You see, after being nearly non-existent for so long I fail to notice trivial things like interior design."  
  
"Perfectly understandable."  
  
"But from what I know of you, young Malfoy, you have an eye. From now on I dub you The Official Death Eater Interior Design Boy and Junior Death Eater."  
  
Lucius clapped proudly along with the other Death Eaters, grateful that the Dark Lord hadn't rejected his son.  
  
"Uh... thank you?" Draco managed.  
  
"Very good." Voldemort clasped his hands together like and over excited schoolteacher. "Now lets say the pledge and get down to business."  
  
The Death Eaters immediately raised their right hands.  
  
"Repeat after me. `I state your name.'" Voldemort said and then rolled his eyes muttering "squibs" as they repeated exactly what he said rather than substituting their own names. "Pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord. And to the evil for which he stands." The Death Eaters repeated then all together said, "Rah, rah, rah! Yay Purebloods!"  
  
"That was pathetic," Draco thought as he rolled his eyes.  
  
"Wormtail!" Voldemort called and a short man with a fake hand came scurrying into view. "Young Malfoy, Pettigrew will give you grand tour of the lair so you can get a feel for what it is you think needs work." He turned to the rest of the group, "Now, down to business."  
  
Draco thanked Voldemort and politely followed Wormtail, "Thank you Mr. Pettigrew."  
  
"Call me Wormtail, Draco."  
  
"Sorry, Mr. Wormtail."  
  
"No, not Mr. Worm... no, wait. I kind of like that. Mr. Wormtail. It's dignified."  
  
"Right. Of course." Draco sneered once he left the presence of the Dark Lord and his father. It wasn't as if he wanted to impress Voldemort, but Draco knew how to act around important people and how to treat anyone below him. And Wormtail was obviously below him.  
  
Indeed, Draco was surprised that his father actually enjoyed coming to these meetings. While he wasn't entirely sure about his father loyalties when it came to Voldemort, as with Lucius you could never be sure of anything, but he did understand that for some reason this was important to him. What Draco couldn't grasp was how an idiot like Voldemort could get so powerful? And how the hell did he have so many damn followers? He sincerely hoped that "How to Back Stab an Evil Over Lord for Dummies" was one of the self-help books that he had not managed to hide from his father.  
  
"Wormtail, take a note," Draco commanded walking around what looked like an unfurnished dining room, completely ignoring the "That's Mr. Wormtail to you," that followed.  
  
Draco spun around the room looking. Then started listing things, "I need Prouves Shelves, a candle ledge alter, a few ribbon lamps, an old world chandelier, a chaise lounge or two, oriental rugs, a buffet cabinet, a hand painted screen, drapes, heavy, preferably in velvet. That takes care of mostly this room and the main room we meet in. Perhaps an oak dining room table with high back chairs." All the while Wormtail is frantically searching through his pockets looking for a piece of parchment. Draco continues. "I want all the material in black and silver, nothing tacky in odd shapes or colours, we're going for simple yet elegant here. Do you have all that?"  
  
Draco finally turned to find Wormtail dipping his quill in ink for the first time.  
  
"Uh, could you say that again?" He asked Draco who threw his hands up in frustration.  
  
"Can you fire evil minions?"  
  
"What? No. We have a union."  
  
"You're kidding." Draco didn't wait for an answer and stormed into the main meeting room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw what was going on in that room. The Death Eaters looked up at his gasp.  
  
"Charades?" He yelled. "Screw this! I'm going home!"  
  
And for the first time, Draco prayed to God, or his toothbrush or whatever entity that would listen that his father was really scheming something behind the Dark Lord's back.  
  
---  
  
end notes: I'll post more as soon as its written. I don't care about reviews so I'm not going to put up some stupid warning that says I need 10 reviews before I upload something else. But, I do appreciate them and they make me feel fuzzy, so do what you like.  
  
This is Agent M signing off. 


	2. Polish and Potter

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad - Chapter 2  
  
Author: Agent M  
  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)  
  
Pairings: None yet. Slash coming!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.  
  
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net/wings) anyone else, just ask.  
  
Notes: My first HP fic, so I'm a little nervous. This is supposed to be humor so people are a tad but ooc, but that's what makes it fun.  
  
Introducing: Seamus "The Standard For All Things Gay" Finnigan  
  
---  
  
A week after Draco had stormed out of the Death Eater meeting and 3 days after Draco had been given back all his coordinates and was finally able to change out of his Death Eater Brand(TM) robes that his father made him wear as punishment for insulting the Dark Lord's choice of activities, Draco was sitting in Potions idly staring past Snape. His thoughts were in an endless circle of dust ruffles, ways to make his eyeliner smudge in just the right way, how to make Voldemort's torture chamber more welcoming, and of course, Harry Potter.  
  
It was with the last thought that his eyes moved across the room to watch Harry scribbling down notes. He giggled to himself as locks of Harry's hair feel in front of his eyes leaving ink marks as he brushed them away. And it was when he moved to brush the hair away that Draco noticed it. His eyes widened and he almost gasped audibly. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was wearing chipped aqua nail polish.  
  
"Why had I never noticed this before? Had Harry just begun doing it? Why over break? Did he not want anyone to know? But why? He had to be at least bisexual, right?" Draco thought to himself. "I mean he is wearing aqua nail polish."  
  
Another part of his brain piped up, "Maybe he just likes nail polish?"  
  
"No, I've never noticed any other guy wearing nail polish except for that Finnigan boy and he's as gay as they come." Draco concluded, and then paused. "Back that thought up. If Harry was gay was he seeing anyone? That would explain why he never had a girlfriend despite his many offers," Draco was getting confused. "Ok, back to the nail polish. Why was it chipped? Fashion? Quidditch practice? Maybe he forgot to take it off?"  
  
There were too many options. One thing was certain; Draco had to call him on it.  
  
As they were leaving Potions after two hours of Snape talking about the many `fascinating' uses for toadstool poison, Draco sauntered over to Harry as he was packing his bag.  
  
"My, my, my, Potter. What is going on here?"  
  
Harry looked confused for a moment. Then, "What are you talking about?"  
  
Ron and Hermione had held back and were now on either side of Harry.  
  
"I mean this," Draco said as he casually pulled back Harry's robe sleeve before he could do anything.  
  
"Harry? Is that blue..." Ron started.  
  
"Nail polish?" Hermione finished.  
  
"Actually its Aqua," Harry stated, a horrified look spreading across his face as he realized what he just said. He looked between Ron and Hermione then at Draco. A moment later he was running as fast as he could down the halls and out of the dungeons.  
  
Draco was more than a little confused. Weasley and Granger didn't know. "Oh well," he thought. "That was fun."  
  
"Malfoy!" Ron yelled as Draco began to walk away. "What was that all about?"  
  
Draco lifted his hands innocently to his chest, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."  
  
"Oh my god!" Hermione screeched and latched on to Draco's arm. "You're wearing black nail polish! Why? Why is Harry?" She paused. "Why am I asking you? Why am I *touching* you?" She dropped his arm like it was a snake.  
  
"Well, I know why I'm wearing it. It's sexy, it brings out the colour of my hands, plus it coordinates with my robes."  
  
Ron looked dumfounded. "What are you talking about?! `The colour of your hands?!' What does it mean?"  
  
"Now, I would expect this from you, Weasley, but I thought it should be fairly obvious for Granger," Draco sighed, eyes following the path that Harry had taken.  
  
"You mean... you don't ... you... you..." Ron stuttered.  
  
"Yes, me. Really, Weasley, after Fred and George, you'd think you'd be quicker on the up take."  
  
"What about Fred and George?"  
  
Draco just laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maybe you should ask them yourself, that is if you can find them when they aren't snogging some random guy," A pause. "Or each other."  
  
"What do you mean by that, Malfoy?"  
  
"Oh, would you look at the time? I'm late for charms." And with that Draco was gone.  
  
Hermione and Ron stood stunned. What had Malfoy just done? Was he implying that Harry was gay? And what the hell was that whole thing with Fred and George about?  
  
Ron seemed to snap out of it first. "I need to go owl my brothers," Ron said weakly and walked away.  
  
"I guess I'll go find Harry," Hermione said to herself, not noticing that Ron had walked away.  
  
---  
  
Hermione didn't have to look far. Harry, for some unknown reason, was hiding in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. When Hermione walked in he was sitting in the corner scratching off the nail polish and watching it fall in flakes to the floor.  
  
"What are you doing in here?" Hermione asked sitting down next to Harry.  
  
"Hiding, obviously. We are the only ones who ever come in here besides lost first years."  
  
"Right," There was an awkward pause. "Harry, what happened back there?"  
  
Hermione waited as Harry picked off more nail polish. It soon became clear that he didn't want to talk about it.  
  
"Harry, its ok to wear nail polish. I was just surprised that's all."  
  
Harry looked up hurt. "No, Hermione, listen for a second. I didn't want anyone to see me like that. With my nail polish all chipped, if they had to seem me like that at all. I mean I didn't expect anyone to see it. I just started over break and I guess I forgot to take it off."  
  
"Harry it's not a big deal. Only me, Ron, and well, Malfoy know."  
  
"Great." Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"No, you don't understand, Harry. Malfoy was wearing black nail polish."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Would I lie to you about this?"  
  
"I guess not."  
  
"Good," Hermione smiled. "So what does this all mean? Is it a new trend or something? I've only ever seen Seamus wearing it some... Oh, Harry. That's it isn't it?" Harry looked away. "Look at me Harry. There is nothing wrong with that and there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about. But why didn't you say anything to me or Ron?"  
  
"I didn't know how people would take it. I mean, you know how its looked upon in the muggle world, what was I to think? Besides you don't see guys coming out left and right at Hogwarts, do you?" There was a slight amount of irritation in Harry's voice.  
  
"That's hardly the point. You know Ron and I wouldn't care, well, as long as you didn't go hitting on my boyfriend that is, but we are your best friends."  
  
Harry smiled and looked up.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione. And I promise not to hit on Ron. He's all yours."  
  
"Now, what to do about that nail polish? Aqua just doesn't do it, Harry. Black, or green maybe."  
  
Harry laughed and hugged Hermione.  
  
"Thanks again."  
  
"Anytime," She said and then remembered. "Harry, what can you tell me about Fred and George?"  
  
Harry fell to the floor laughing.  
  
---  
  
Meanwhile, Ron stood in the owlery trying to coax Pig down from his perch.  
  
"Oh, come on, Pig. This is important!"  
  
Pig finally flew by and Ron caught him as he reread the letter making sure it was subtle.  
  
"Dear Fred and George,  
  
How are you? How's the joke shop coming along? Hogwarts is a lot quieter without you guys. See you at Christmas.  
  
Love, Ron  
  
P.S. Are you two gay?"  
  
Ron smiled to himself and attached the letter to Pig.  
  
---  
  
End Notes: Sorry about spelling mistakes. I have yet to send this to my beta reader, but as soon as I do I will repost with everything fixed. I just can't be sitting on stuff like this or it will never get out.  
  
This is Agent M signing off. 


	3. Shrinks and Syndicates

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad - Chapter 3   
Author: Agent M   
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: None yet. Slash coming!   
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net/wings) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: This is supposed to be humor so people are a tad but ooc, but that's what makes it fun. There are a few original characters in this part but none who will be paired with anyone, and 2 of them are already dead, so don't hurt me. Thanks. 

**Ten points to the house that can tell me how Dr. Chiron, Demetrius, Lavinia, and Caius all relate to Lucius in a context larger than just this lame fan fic!!**

* * *

Somewhere within the bowels of Voldemort's super secret lair, a tall graying man was being led out of a giant cage and to a large armchair. Once sitting, the man took out a yellow legal pad from the table next to the chair and a ballpoint pen, which he clicked nervously. A clock struck 2 o'clock, and exactly 43 seconds later Voldemort swept into the room and sat himself in the chair across from other man. A silence hung between them and Voldemort started at the man, unblinking, for about a minute until he got the hint and spoke up.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle. Wednesday already, is it?" 

"That it is, Dr. Chiron," Voldemort replied. "And how are you doing?" 

At this Chiron seemed to let his muscles relax; yet, his right leg seemed to shake against his will.

"I'm doing okay, Mr. Riddle, but I believe that it is my job to ask you that."

"Indeed." 

"So, Tom, how are you? Have you been working on your anger management?" Chiron's leg stopped shaking now that he seemed to be in his element of asking questions. 

"I only wrote down one name on my List this week!" Voldemort seemed very pleased with himself.

"Why did you feel that was necessary?"

"He was drawing my evil minions, I mean, my employees away from me," Voldemort explained simply, as if it were common to add a name to a hit list for that reason.

"Tom, we have discussed the fact that you are the not center of all existence. When you die the world will not end." Chiron's voice was smooth and soothing. "Say it with me now." 

Voldemort closed his snake-like eyes and concentrated. "I am not the center of all existence."

"Good. Keep going."

"When I die the world will not end."

"How does that knowledge make you feel, Tom? How does it feel not to be the center of all existence and to acknowledge that fact?" 

"Chiron, don't you think that I am worth being the center of all existence? The world should and must end when I die," Voldemort looked at Chiron who was giving him a strange look. "I mean I just want people to pay more attention to me. I want to matter." 

"I understand, Tom. It's perfectly normal for someone who has Split Personality Disorder to feel-"

"What?" Voldemort cut Chiron off.

"I've been looking over the notes form our sessions and I have reason to believe you have Split Personality Disorder. It's actually quite common, nothing to be ashamed of."

"I don't have Split Personality Disorder," Voldemort stated through clenched teeth.

"Well, then who is," Chiron flipped through his notes, "'Lord Voldemort'?"

"Uh-"

"For some reason you've taken over this persona, assuming it as your own self when you don't realize it. You believe yourself to have evil minions and magical powers and occasionally I get the feeling you are involved in some cult-like activities. This 'Voldemort' character slips into your normal speech, like he is trying to come out, Tom, and perhaps even take over your dominant personality." 

Voldemort gave Chiron a blank stare.

"Did you see 'Fight Club'?" Chiron asked suddenly.

"What?" 

"Excellent movie, if I do say so myself. Not a big Pitt fan, but that Helena Bonham Carter. Wow."

"Um, Chiron?"

"Oh, right. Anyways, we can run some tests to find out for certain, but I don't think that is needed at this juncture." 

"There is NOTHING wrong with me!" Voldemort yelled.

"I know. This isn't _wrong_, Tom, it can't be helped. I understand you feel the need to keep me locked up in a cage in your basement because you need to be in control, I respect that. But we should also look at where this need to be 'powerful' comes from."

"What do you mean?" 

"Tom, what was your father like?" Chiron asked.

But he never got an answer, for Voldemort high-tailed it out of Chiron's "office" as soon as the word father was mentioned. Chiron sighed as he was ushered back into his cage by a man with a giant fake hand.

---

Voldemort stormed into his newly decorated office, noting what a wonderful job young mister Malfoy did then summoned Wormtail. After a few crashes outside, Wormtail finally appeared.

"Y-yes, My Lord?" Wormtail asked bowing.

"Have you ever heard of something called 'split personality disorder'?"

"No, sir."

"Of course you haven't!" Voldemort exclaimed. "Because it doesn't exist. There is no such thing. And I most certainly do not have it!"

"Who said you did, sir?"

"Dr. Chiron." 

"Did you want me to make Dr. Chiron disappear?" Wormtail asked rubbing his hands together. 

"That won't be necessary."

"Sir? May I ask why you have a muggle shrink in the first place?"

"I believe I have told you numerous times not to refer to him as my 'shrink'."

"Sorry, sir."

"He is a muggle so he can't spill to anyone. He is a muggle because he's too stupid to know any better. He's a muggle so I don't have to worry about secrecy. Now is that all you need to know?" Voldemort hissed. 

Wormtail did not get to answer because at that moment a loud popping noise came from the fireplace and Lucius' head appeared. 

"Malfoy, so good of you to pop in." Wormtail laughed a little too hard at Voldemort's attempt at humor and ended up just coughing when he realized that no one else was laughing. 

"I have news, My Lord."

"I see," Voldemort sounded dejected. "So you would only contact me if you have information?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, sir. I love talking to you. But it just so happens that I also have to tell you something." 

"So this isn't a social call."

"No."

"I see."

"Look, a member of The Serpent's Eye is coming to The Manor tomorrow night and I should be able to get information out of him," Lucius reported.

"The Syndicate, Lucius?"

"The man was a friend of my fathers."

"Oh, yes. Demetrius was a member. Pity, he could have been a good man." 

"You say that like it was a bad thing. It's not like he raped women and then hacked off their tongues and hands." Lucius pointed out.

"I suppose not."

"So, was there anything else you needed, sir?" Lucius asked after a pause.

"It's always about business with you, isn't it? Not a social call ever. And you never invite _me_ over." 

"Is this really the time we should be discussing this?" Lucius asked.

"I don't see why not."

Lucius sighed. It was going to be a long night.

---

Narcissa stood behind Lucius rubbing his back. Lucius had been tense all night and was presently scowling into his Tanqueray on the rocks with not one or three, but two olives, and rambling about his ambitions in life. 

"Darling, you must at least try to relax. You really are spreading yourself too thin, what with the Death Eater meetings and now meeting with the Syndicate. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"Narcissa, when have I ever led us astray?" He took a long sip of his drink and waved his arm in front of him. "My mind is a cascading waterfall of thoughts. My thoughts flow like--"

"Master, t-there is a m-Mr. Caius here to see y-you," interrupted a house elf.

"Very well, Stumpy, show him in." Stumpy scurried away and returned a moment later followed by a tall lithe man with dark blond hair and two parallel scars on his right cheek that ran from his piercing blue eyes to his jaw. Lucius stood and the two men shook hands before taking up seats around the fire.

"Caius, it is wonderful to see you again."

"It has been far too long, Lucius. And Narcissa, you are looking as elegant as ever." Caius's voice was like a rusty saw; it was rough but served its purpose. 

"Why thank you, Caius. How long has it been?"

"Eighteen years."

"Oh, yes. Right before the accidents."

"Shame what happened to your parents, Lucius. Lavinia was a wonderful person."

"Yes, too bad she couldn't hold her arsenic."

"And Demetrius was a great man," Caius finished unfazed.

"If you say so," Lucius mumbled. 

"I was always under the impression that you two got along quite well."

"Oh, they did in public," Narcissa explained. 

"We all told him not to drink at the Dragon races, but would he listen?" Lucius shook his head. "The fool didn't even see the Ridgeback coming." 

"Darling, he was in the middle of the track," Narcissa pointed out.

"Indeed. Not even the reputation of the Malfoy name could cover that one." 

Caius nodded in understanding; "Demetrius was always a stubborn man." 

"Quite." 

Any further conversation was interrupted when Stumpy came in to bring Caius a drink. Lucius looked at Narcissa who nodded then breathed deeply. 

"You're strong and in control," Lucius thought to himself. "You have the power to change your future. You will not be controlled by food. Wait, wrong book." 

He took another deep breath and finished gathering his thoughts. 

"Caius, I know you and my father were partners before the accident and that you two were close. So, I need to ask you some favors."

"I don't know, Lucius. We were close, but why should that matter? It's not as if you liked the guy. I know I shouldn't meddle in your home life, but he was your father."

"Well, we did name our son after him. That should count for something," Narcissa supplied smiling. 

"Demetrius?"

"No. Draco after the means of my father's demise."

"Such a pleasant thought." 

"Indeed."

"See, this is what I mean, Lucius. I feel like I would be betraying Lavinia and Demetrius if I helped you," Caius explained. "You were accused of being a Death Eater after all." 

"Why should that make a difference? You're in the fucking Mafia!" 

Caius studied Lucius for a moment trying to gauge how much he knew about what really went on at the Syndicate when Demetrius was around.

"Look, I'm going to need some time on this. I'll send an owl within a week and then we'll meet again to discuss this further. I want you to think about what you are asking me to do and why."

"Very well."

"I shall see you soon, then."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

"Like the Cruciatus Curse, I'm sure," Caius smirked. 

Stumpy reappeared to show Caius to the door and Lucius sighed.

"I don't know why I am even bothering with them. Caius is way too much like my father." 

"Darling," Narcissa cooed, stroking her husband's hair, "everything will be fine. What could possibly go wrong with your plan?"

"Our son."

"How could Draco possibly ruin anything?"

"That Nancy boy has fallen for Harry Potter."

"I'm sure you will find a way to use that to your advantage." 

Narcissa gave Lucius a wicked smile and beckoned him towards their bedroom. 

"I knew I married you for something other than looks, love." 

-end part 3- 

((next)) ((back)) 


	4. Moaning Myrtle and Making Moves

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad   
Author: Agent M (loveofhavok@colourovers.net)  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: None yet. Slash to come.  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net/wings) and The Underground (http://members.aol.com//michirublade//index.html) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything.  
  
And I owe 10 points to Cho of Ravenclaw for picking up the Titus refrences... don't worry if you didn't get them. they aren't important really and the relationship of all of them in this has yet ot be explained. *grin*

* * *

Harry started blankly at the Divination book in front of him. For the billionth time, he wished that he had dropped the class with Hermione back in 4th year. If nothing else, the material got more out there as the years passed. And now, in 7th year Divination he had a term paper due on Retrograde Plants and how they affect your future. He looked back at the book: 

_T Neptune conjunct N Sun on the positive side tends to increase your sensitivity and compassion for others. You may be much more inclined to set aside your own ego and lend a helping hand to those in need of your assistance. Neptune causes the ego drive of the Sun to diminish. It is from this aspect of the contact that the negative influence of the conjunction emerges._

Harry shook his head. He had no clue what he just read and part of him wished he could still pass the class by making fake horoscopes with Ron predicting his own death. He looked at the clock and longed for Ron and Hermione to quite talking about him so that he could get Ron's help on this. But, it seemed that Ron was much more interested in Hermione's encounter with Harry in Myrtle's bathroom that morning than Harry himself. 

Indeed, at that moment, Ron was sitting in the corner of the Gryffindor common room listening to Hermione recount the conversation she had with Harry.

"I highly doubt he wanted us to find him like that - with his nail polish in such bad shape," Hermione said, concluding her story.

"So, why didn't he tell us?" Ron asked a bit angry. "Why did he leave Malfoy to discover it?" 

"He was scared, Ron, and I don't blame him. You know that he didn't have any friends before coming here. Why would he want to risk it?"

"You have a point."

"Besides," Hermione continued, "now that I think about it, it shouldn't have been such a surprise."

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, with all the people throwing themselves at Harry don't you think it's odd he's never had a girlfriend? I mean the boy is seventeen."

"He liked Cho," Ron pointed out.

"For a short period of time when he was fourteen. Maybe he didn't know then. She was also the only girl who didn't throw herself at Harry. She was 'safe' to like."

"He does like to polish his broom handle a lot," Ron admitted. 

"And you know about his obsession with exfoliating," Hermione added. 

"But I still didn't see it coming. He's a Quidditch player, he's rough, he's--" 

"So were Fred and George, Ron," Hermione interrupted, rolling her eyes

"Why does everyone know more about them than I do?!" 

Hermione laughed and kissed her boyfriend. 

---

Across the school, Draco Malfoy was just settling himself into the tub in the Prefects' bathroom, his green Slytherin bathroom hanging neatly over a chair. His mind was pouring over the event that took place in Potions that morning, wondering, as he had been all day, if Harry was in fact gay. Of course, this was the best place to go if one wanted to be alone with their thought. It was surprising how few of the prefects used that bathroom at all. Draco, grateful of his Prefect status, used it all the time. Especially when it came to doing things like jerking-off while thinking about Harry. In fact, that's just what he was doing when Moaning Myrtle came out of one of the many spouts. Startled, Draco squeaked and moved the bubbles around so they covered him. 

Myrtle seemed obvious to Draco's presence and sat at the edge of the tub sobbing.

"Was there something you wanted, Myrtle, or can I get back to relaxing here?" Draco drawled trying to play off his squeak.

"It's some of the worst news since I died!" she wailed. 

"You realized you actually are dead?" Draco asked feigning innocence and Myrtle burst into another round tears. 

"My crush. My love is…" Sobs echoed through her body and Draco rolled his eyes.

"You're dead, remember, what does it matter?" 

Myrtle sniffed, "Harry was the only person ever nice to me. The only person to care enough to ask how I died."

"You like Potter?" Draco questioned holding back a laugh.

"Yes," She wailed. "And he's gay!"

"Really?!" Draco exclaimed. "I mean, uh, how do you know?" He tried sounding uninterested.

"He was talking to the girl who was a cat once in my bathroom."

"Perfect!" Draco jumped out of the tub in his excitement. 

"You know, you're kind of cute yourself," Myrtle said through tears eyeing Draco's backside.

Draco looked down and realized he wasn't wearing anything, let out yet another girly squeak, and grabbed a towel as he made a mad dash towards the door.

---

Draco wasn't one to formulate plans before hand. He just did things as they came to him leaving the means to justify the end. He was a Malfoy, after all. And Malfoy's always got what they wanted in the end. And right now, Draco new that he had to talk to Harry - alone. So, it was between Charms and Transfiguration the next day that Draco cornered Harry without Ron or Hermione.

"So, Potter, I hear you play for the other team." 

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Harry choked out while wondering how Draco could possibly know his secret.

"I just wanted to welcome you to the team, that's all." He shrugged nonchalantly. "No crime in that is there?" 

Harry dropped his book bag and stared wide-eyed at Draco. Did Draco just come out to him? 

"Yeah, I get that reaction a lot," Draco sounded bored. 

Harry shook his head, "No, it isn't…. I mean I just wasn't expecting that from you. I figured you would exploit my secret or something." 

"That would be a bit hypocritical, now wouldn't it?" 

"Hasn't ever stopped you before."

Draco paused for a moment considering this."Point taken, but this is different." 

"How so?" 

Draco let his eyes roam over Harry's body and slowly locked them with Harry's green eyes and held the gaze for a moment before answering in barely a whisper; "This time it's personal." 

Draco turned and began to walk away leaving Harry to wonder about his last statement.

"By the way, Potter," Draco called over his shoulder, "I wouldn't discuss personal matters in Myrtle's bathroom if I were you."

"Damn it," Harry cursed and swore vengeance on Myrtle. 

---

Despite Draco's assurance that he would not torment Harry on the subject of his sexuality, Harry spent most of the next week avoiding Draco as much as he could. He wasn't so much worried about Draco blowing his secret, but about his own feelings for the Slytherin. Draco was sexy as hell, Harry could not deny that even if he tried, but he was also obnoxious, spoiled, mean, and, well, sexy as hell was still on the list. He was also gay which in Harry's book was a major plus. But that aside he was still a Malfoy and the same guy who had made Harry's life at Hogwarts less than perfect for the past six years.

Draco on the other hand was getting frustrated. Harry was supposed to have gotten the hint. He couldn't possibly be that dense, could he? It was obvious in Draco's mind that Harry liked him, though he wasn't sure where or when he had drawn that conclusion. And now Harry had the audacity to avoid him like the plague? Malfoy's didn't take things lying down - well most things anyway - and Draco was beginning to get upset. 

Needless to say Draco was more than a little infuriated when he shoved Ron against the wall on his way to Arithmancy.

"Where's Harry?" Draco snarled.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?"

"I want to see him." 

"What the hell for?" Ron immediately took up a defense mode.

"I didn't think your memory was that bad, Weasley." 

Ron pushed away Draco, turning the tables and holding Draco against the wall as he leaned into his face trying to be intimidating.

"Why. Do. You. Want. To. See. Harry?" Ron asked through clenched teeth. 

A shrug. "I like him."

"Dude, you're gay!" Ron yelled and backed away like he had been burned.

"I thought we established this already." A smirk. "I hope you don't treat Harry that way."

"He doesn't go around pinning me against walls." Ron gave Draco a suspicious look. "You don't, um, like me or anything, do you?" 

"Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. I wouldn't give your brothers the time of day and at least they were good-looking. Besides, didn't I just say that I liked Harry?"

"Oh, thank god," Ron sighed seemingly missing the rest. Then, "Wait what?"

But Draco had given up trying to get anything out of Ron and began to walk away laughing to himself, ignoring Ron's shouts for an explanation.

---

Harry jumped as the door to the men's room slammed shut behind him. He was knew who was there before he even turned around. Sure enough, there stood Draco leaning against the door with a smirk across his face. Harry sighed.

"I have been looking everywhere for you. I was beginning to think that you were trying to avoid me." He kept his eyes trained on Harry's as he kept slowly moving towards him. 

"Oh?" Harry took a step backwards.

"Look, Harry," Draco started, deciding to take a different approach. "Don't be ashamed of who you are. Hell, even I came out to my parents and they took it fine. Well, at least my mother did. I think Father's still in shock…. But the point is that people won't care. Your friends love you for who you are."

"You don't understand, do you? It's me. I'm fucking Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. I can't be gay!" 

"I'd like to be 'fucking Harry Potter,'" Draco mumbled.

"What?"

"Harry, people who admire you admire the scar. Who cares what you look like in their eyes. They don't matter." 

Harry stared at Draco blankly for a moment.

"Where did you get all that bullshit?"

"My father's addicted to self-help books," Draco explained. 

Harry nodded in understanding. Then softly, "I'm gonna get so much shit for this."

"Who cares?" 

Harry gave Draco a suspicious look. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I think that there could be something between us, why not give it a chance?"

"It would never work. The names Malfoy and Potter just don't go together." 

"Fuck, Harry. You're the Boy-Who-Lived. If anyone can go against the odds it's you. Why should this be any different?" 

Harry turned away from Draco, "Just leave me alone, Malfoy." 

"Harry…."

"Malfoy, you don't know me. You don't know what I want," Harry yelled, spinning around. 

"What about what I want?" Draco slowly moved forward and lightly kissed Harry on the lips. 

Harry pulled back. "No. This," he gestured between himself and Draco, "could never work." 

And with that he turned and headed out of the bathroom. Draco stood rooted to the spot staring at the closing door for a moment before hurrying after Harry. When he finally found him he was sitting on the lawn in the courtyard with Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus. The group of Gryffindors, however, didn't stop Draco from marching straight up to Harry.

"I like you, you like me. What's the problem?" 

Harry looked at is friends then back at Draco trying to plead him with his eyes to continue the conversation later. 

"Well?" Draco asked impatiently.

"Besides the obvious assumption on your part that I actually like you? Your father's a Death Eater for one," Harry stated as if it were common knowledge. 

"So?"

"So, you are going to be one also, right?"

"Your point is what? Death Eaters aren't all they are cracked up to be. Not all drunken orgies, you know."

"Death Eaters have drunken orgies?" Seamus asked, his interest suddenly perked, resulting in an elbow in the ribs from both Dean and Hermione. 

"No, mostly just Dough-knuts and Charades."

"What?" Ron asked taken aback.

"Pathetic, I know." 

"That doesn't change anything. They are still the same people who wreaked all that havoc sixteen years ago and have been running a muck these past few. How many times have I almost died?"

"No, no, no. That's Voldemort's deal. Not that he is any good at it or anything."

"Draco!" Harry screeched.

"That's not what I mean sure the guy has the whole evil overlord thing going on. And he has mastered the 'evil eye,' but he really has no planning skills."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, it would be helpful if he knew what direction he wanted to go with for his torture chambers…."

"What?"

"As the official Death Eater Interior Decorator, it is difficult to work with such little direction," Draco said proudly.

"You're the Death Eater Interior Decorator?" Hermione asked stifling laughter.

"It has its perks," Draco explained. 

Harry let out a cross between a scream and a frustrated noise, threw his hands up in the air and stalked off towards the castle.

"I think he likes me," Draco said winking at the group and following after Harry. 

As soon as he was out of ear shot Hermione broke down laughing.

"Is interior design as gay in the wizarding world as in the muggle world?" 

The boys just nodded and Hermione collapsed in laughter.

---  
End Notes:  
Poor Ron. He's clueless...   
The slash is comming! I swear!!

This is Agent M signing off.


	5. Boyfriends and Back Stories

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad   
Author: Agent M (loveofhavok@colourovers.net)  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: None yet. Slash to come.  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net/wings) and The Underground (http://members.aol.com//michirublade//index.html) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything.

** And here is the sotra boring part of the story. Please read it anyways, its not all boring. BUT there is a backstory that is important for so that you will understand the rest... ** 

* * *

Snape was pacing back and forth in his office. Something was foul in the state of Hogwarts and he was going to discover what it was. Really he already suspected that Potter had something to do with it, but then when didn't he? Snape paused for a moment reflecting on how much like James and Sirius Harry really was. Snape smiled for a moment than scowled. As far as Snape was concerned, Harry was a bigger drama queen than Professor Trelawney. The difference between whatever was going on now and Harry's usual escapades was that Draco Malfoy was somehow involved, and that's what perked Snape's interests.After all, it had been a surprisingly quiet week, lacking in Potter/Malfoy squabbles. 

Snape briefly wondered if the two boys had grown out of their enmity, but quickly dismissed the idea deciding it was absurd. It's not like he and Black ever grew out of their petty schoolboy rivalry. Him and Lupin on the other hand… 

Snape blanched, "Shit."

He quickly moved to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and began to compose a letter. 

_Dear Remus,   
  
I hope all is well at home and that Black is staying out of trouble-though I wonder if that is possible… As much as I wish that I had no ulterior motives in writing this letter, I am sorry to say that I do. Some odd things have been going on around Hogwarts, and before you ask, yes; it's weirder than the time Dumbledore wore Bermuda shorts to the Christmas feast._

_ I must ask you to think back to when we were in school. What happened between us to make things the way they are now? And more importantly, what tipped of Black to those changes? Yes, this is completely relevant. History, as they say, repeats itself and it seems so close that I caution you to mentioning anything to Black about this as he might react in much the same way._

_ I hesitate to say what I believe might be going on, though I wager that you can piece most of it together. However, I will write more later as things begin develop here. And please let me know about what Black noticed. Thanks, Remus. _

_Yours,  
Severus. _

Snape blew on the parchment and called over his owl, Taboo, and sent the letter off. 

--- 

Caius slammed the shot glass down on the bar. He had just received word from Lucius that they were to meet the next day to discuss plans. He waved the bartender over and motioned for her to fill his glass again, watched her fill the cup and then stared blankly at it, fingering the two scars on his right cheek, thinking about Demetrius.

He had just been recruited into the Syndicate the year that the Death Eaters began to form; however Demetrius had been there nearly twenty-five years. The Death Eaters were not well known yet and were only known to the Serpent's Eye because of their one-time ties with Tom Riddle. 

There were a few main differences between the Serpent's Eye Syndicate and the Death Eaters. For one, the Syndicate held both fashion and elegance in high regards, often scoffing at the disaster that was the Death Eater Brand™ robes. Secondly, blood was not a priority. As long as a wizard had money they could be asked to join the Syndicate. And lastly, yet most important, the Syndicate kept a low profile. Not many knew about them. They recruited in secret and worked behind the scenes while keeping up a prestigious image shown to the public. Unless you were in the inner circle, you would never know who was a member and who wasn't. The richest and most impressive witches and wizards packed huge social events, yet there was always an element of mystery, unlike all the Death Eaters who had been caught and convicted. 

Caius, who had grown up with Lucius, was willing to bet until recently that it was the blood status that turned Lucius away from the Syndicate. Now, he was sure that it was his relationship with Demetrius that caused him to join the Death Eaters though he didn't understand the drawing power. Voldemort and his whole operation was a joke, yet he was a slippery bastard. No one in the Syndicate had ever been able to claim the money that was on his head, though many had tried.

Before Caius had become Demetrius' partner and even before he had any solid idea of the Syndicate itself, Demetrius had another partner: a wizard by the name of Tom Riddle, who had mysteriously come upon a great deal of money. It was almost instantly after his induction that the rest of the Syndicate ostracized Riddle. No one seemed to trust him, and so they put him under the watch of Demetrius and he was given control of his own strip poker ring underneath Hogshead. And for a while, despite everyone's misgivings about Riddle, everything seemed to be fine. Soon, however, things became amiss. People who went to Riddle's rings started disappearing and turning up months later with little memory working as prostitutes. 

All the while the Syndicate was losing money and getting a bit suspicious. So Riddle did what any evil wizard in training would do: tipped off the Ministry to the rings giving them Demetrius' name. No one inside believed anything that Riddle said against Demetrius and so they stripped him of his title in the Syndicate and marked him with the Triple-S: the mark given to a snitch of the Serpent Eye Syndicate. Before any further punishment could be administered, Riddle vanished and the Syndicate turned their attention to covering any trace of Demetrius' operations, wanting to stay unknown to the Ministry. 

Demetrius' hate for the Death Eaters was on a much more personal level than anyone knew. Caius reckoned that Lucius knew enough to know that joining the Death Eaters would piss his father off, and evidently it worked like a charm. Only now, Lucius wanted some sort of connection with the organization that he renounced so many years before and for the life of him, Caius couldn't figure out why.

Gulping down the last of his drink, Caius tossed some sickles down and swept out of the bar and into the sunlit streets of Hogsmeade. 

---

Lucius looked up from "Negotiating With Evil Outfits and Other Helpful Hints for World Domination" when Stumpy entered his office. The house elf seemed to be more on edge than usual and was wringing out his ears like they were soaked washcloths.

"Sir, I is coming to tell you that Mr. Caius is arrived." 

Lucius nodded in acknowledgement as he stood up and pushed Stumpy out of the way, leaving his study.He entered the lounge to find that Caius was already seated and sipping a martini. Caius stood up when he noticed Lucius and they shook hands then sat down. 

"So kind of you to return, Caius. I always knew you were a good man."

"I come when I am invited, Lucius. And since I have been invited back I trust that you have thought over exactly what you are going to ask of me," Caius said fingering the edge of his glass. 

"We have known each other a long time, Caius, and it pains me to have to ask anything of you that would cause you grief, yet you are the only one I can turn to at this time." 

Caius rolled his eyes at Lucius. He got enough guilt trip speeches from Demetrius to know that Lucius was presently full of shit.

"Cut the crap, Lucius. Why don't you just tell me what you want?"

Lucius sighed. In his mind, kissing ass was the most tiring thing one could engage in beyond the ancient game of Creathceann and perhaps a tryst with Black-or so he heard. But if Caius wanted him to lay it out on the table for him he would.

"Fine. Here's the deal. I need connections within the Syndicate. I no longer associate with the Death Eaters and I find it humorous that you think I would," Lucius explained. "As you know, I rejected the offer that they Syndicate made to me and thus I can never be a member. But I fear the wrath of Who-Know-Who and would feel safer among my father's people."

"You expect me to believe that?" Caius scoffed. "You hated Demetrius. Why should we lend you help, if that is in fact what you truly need?"

Lucius paused for a moment considering his options and finally his eyes seemed to light up with an answer and he smiled.

"I can get you Harry Potter, the bane of You-Know-Who." 

---

Sirius Black sat with his feet up on the round wooden table, leaning back in his chair, reading The Daily Prophet. It was a warm morning for February, and the windows in the kitchen were all open, letting the breeze flow through the cottage. Remus Lupin was humming to himself as he fixed breakfast for the both of them, working at the counter behind Black. 

Both men looked up as a giant black owl perched on their windowsill, wings fluttering to get their attention.

"Oh, god. It's too early for this," Sirius moaned. 

Remus slapped the back of Sirius' head as he made his way to the window to retrieve the letter that the owl was holding.

"Comere, Taboo," Remus called softly to the owl. 

Sirius snorted and mumbled, "Typical."

"What was that, Padfoot?"

"Just commenting on the taste of that man."

"'That man' as you call him, happens to be my boyfriend, so I would thank you not to comment on his taste," Remus glared at Sirius.

"No, that's not what I meant…" A loaf of bread flew across the room and hit him in the face.

"Mature, Moony. Real mature."

"You're the one who can't get over a childhood rivalry," Remus pointed out.

"He plastered pictures of me in drag all over Hogwarts!"

"And you never hand more dates afterwards! Honestly, Sirius. Don't you think you got him back good enough?"

"That was pretty clever. I was a bit surprised about Malfoy, but…"

"Not that time," Remus interrupted not wanting to know anything about Severus and Lucius. "I meant the life scarring one involving me on a full moon, you, and Prongs? Sound familiar?"

"Vaguely."

"Forget it, Padfoot. I have a letter to read." 

Sirius shrugged and went back to reading the paper. After a few minutes with no sound from Remus, he turned around to find him staring blankly at his letter.

"Earth to Moony? Everything okay?"

"What? Yes. Fine. Why wouldn't I be?" 

Sirius gave him a strange look before he grabbed the letter from Remus before he could react. He quickly read the letter and visibly paled. Snape could only be talking about Harry…

"This is not good."

-end part 5-

This is Agent M signing off.


	6. Stalkers and Sidekicks

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad   
Author: Agent M (loveofhavok@colourovers.net)  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: None yet. Slash to come.  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net/wings) and The Underground (http://members.aol.com//michirublade//index.html) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything.

* * *

For Ron and Hermione their relationship had always been a love/hate one. If there was anyone thing in the world (other than You Know Who, of course) that Ron hated more than anything it was 6:30 am and 7:00 was not much better. Hermione, on the other hand, was a complete morning person and loved getting to the dinning room at 7:00, so that she had over an hour to read before classes started. If Ron had it his way he would stroll into the dinning room at ten to 8:00 then dash off to Double Potions by 8:30. But Ron didn't want to upset Hermione so he had taken to dragging himself out of bed at 6:30 when he should have been properly asleep, like Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville all were the moment. 

"Lazy gits," Ron mumbled as he searched for his missing left shoe in the dark. 

Ron did feel a bit relieved that Harry was still asleep. If he heard Harry complain one more time about his "stalker", he was going to do something stupid, like make fun of Hermione.

He yawned and made his way down through the common room. The halls were still chilly and Ron sleepily pulled his robes closer to himself as he wandered towards the dinning room. He yawned again and felt his eyelids drooping as he dragged his feet half in a daze. Then suddenly he bumped into what he at first thought was a wall. Ron looked up and was suddenly wide-awake as the face of Goyle looked back down at him.

--- 

Hermione looked up from "History of Magic: World Changing Witches and Wizards" when Harry came dragging himself into the dinning room. Harry mumbled a greeting and threw himself into a chair then stared blankly at a spot on the table for a few moments, as his eyes adjusted to being awake before he took a muffin to pick at. Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy sitting across from her and then realized that Harry was in the dinning room before Ron was. She looked at her watch; it was almost 8:00. Harry wasn't any earlier than he usually was, leaving himself just enough time to get to Potions on time. But Ron was usually there before him. Hermione shrugged and figured that Ron had fallen asleep somewhere along the way. She didn't care all that much if Ron came early or not, but she liked him to think she did.

Harry seemed blissfully unaware of anything going on around him as he ate his blueberry muffin and Hermione went back to reading about Mithrandir. She had hardly found her spot again when Ron came flying into the dinning room looking like he had just seen Filch in his pajamas. Harry was startled awake by Ron's sudden arrival, but didn't do more than acknowledge his presence, which was saying a lot for the boy who could hardly function in the morning. 

"Alright there, Ron?" Hermione asked as the breathless boy next to her gave Harry a weird look.

"Something... something strange happened this morning." Ron said slowly tearing his eyes away from Harry and looking at his girlfriend.

"Was it a dream where you see yourself in drag dancing in front of Double Potions with the Slytherins?" Harry asked looking up from his muffin top. Ron and Hermione raised their eyebrows in question. "What? I'm not saying I have that dream or anything." 

Harry shifted uncomfortably, the thought of Draco "stalking" him freshly renewed for the morning.

"So what happened?" Harry asked changing the subject. 

"I just had a conversation with Goyle." 

Harry choked on his muffin and Ron winced as Hermoine's "History of Magic" book fell from her grasps. 

"Goyle? As in, like, Gregory Goyle?" Harry asked.

"Yeah."

"He can speak polysyllabically?"

"Apparently," Ron said after cursing Hermione and her big words. "I mean, who knew?" 

"Well, what did he say?"

"He wants you to stop avoiding Malfoy, Harry. He says that Malfoy is driving him and Crabbe nuts with all his, I think he used the word was 'wallowing'." 

Harry slammed his hands down on the table; "Well I wouldn't have to 'avoid' him if he would stop stalking me!"

"Hey now, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just telling you what he said to me," Ron said raising his hands in defense. 

Hermione, meanwhile, had given up on the conversation. She, like Ron, was sick of Harry's Malfoy drama. She was just getting back to her reading when something flew over her shoulder and smacked into her book. She rolled her eyes wondering if she was going to get any further reading done and dropped Pig down onto Ron's plate turning back to her book without a word.

"Heya, Pig," Harry said feeding Pig a bit of his muffin. "Who's it from?"

"Fred and George I think." 

Ron pulled the letter of Pig's leg and began to read. 

_Dear Ronnie, _

_I wanted to tell you I would see you at Christmas, but George says that I need to inform you that it is March and we already saw you at Christmas this year. In fact, we got your letter a few days after you went back to Hogwarts after Christmas break._

_ **Ron, you should invest in a calendar. We can get you a good deal on one that shoots off fireworks on Fridays, if you want. Or just ask Hermione. She's smart. She knows the months.**_

_ How's everyone else? Is Ginny still pining over Harry? Is Harry still in the clo--- _

_**I don't think Fred wants to finish that sentence. Well, send our love to everyone. See you soon, Ronnie.**_

**_ Love,   
Forge_**_ and Gred._

"Well, how do you like that? They didn't even answer my question," Ron said after he finished reading the letter out loud.

"You didn't know it was March?" Hermione asked over her book.

"Quiet you." 

Hermione ducked down as bagel hit her book.

"Are you sure it was Goyle?" Harry asked bringing the conversation back to Ron's atrocious claim.

"Yes!" Ron yelled and half the dinning room turned and looked at him. He laughed nervously. "Uh, we need to go to Potions." 

"Great, Ron. Spoil the fun. You've been dating Hermione too long."

Harry wished he had a book to hide behind when the bagel hit him square in the nose.

--- 

Harry followed Ron and Hermione down into the dungeons towards Potions. Lately, Potions had become something he dreaded more than usual. Not only was it his worst subject with his least favorite teacher, who for some reason had been acting oddly towards Harry, but Malfoy was also in what Harry liked to call, super stalker mode. Harry let Ron and Hermione walk in front of him as he tried to delay his inevitable descent into the hell that was Potions class. But just as he was about to walk into the classroom he was pulled backwards and into a side hall. 

"Are you avoiding me?" Draco asked as he let go of Harry's robes. 

"Are you following me?" Harry countered. 

Draco laughed and leaned casually against the wall. "I just want to get to know you better, that's all."

"The pathetically sweet act doesn't suit you, Malfoy."

"Thanks, Potter. From you I'm sure that is a complement."

"Funny you should say something like that considering it is you, after all, who wants to get to know me better," Harry said with a smile.

"I do want to know you better. What can it hurt to give this a try?"

"Let's suspend reality for a moment and pretend that I actually agree to this scheme of yours. What would that entitle?"

"First off, it's not a scheme," Draco corrected. "And as for what we would do.. talking, sharing, maybe a little something to drink, snogging, whatever." 

Harry rolled his eyes, "86 the last option and I'll agree on one condition."

"What?"

"You stop stalking me afterwards."

"Malfoys do not 'stalk' people, Harry Potter. We are just used to getting what we want."

"Oh, so that's how it is. I'm a challenge? So challenging, in fact, that you have resorted to giving my friends and I heart attacks by sending messages through Goyle?"

Draco looked at Harry with confusion written across his face.

"You mean," Harry said slowly, "you didn't send Goyle to talk to Ron? He made that decision on his own?"

"He can talk polysyllabically?" Draco asked in shock. 

Harry laughed, "I must say that I'm amazed you aren't close enough to Goyle to know that he is capable of-and I used this word loosely-intelligent conversation. Will wonders never cease?"

"Perhaps not," Draco said taking a step towards Harry.

"Ahem." 

Harry and Draco both spun around and saw Snape towering over them.

"I was just curious as to weather you two were going to grace us with your presence in class this morning?" 

Both of them mumbled an apology and dashed towards the classroom. Snape chuckled to himself then took out a piece of parchment with "Developments in the Malfoy/Potter situation" written at the top. He wrote down "rendezvous in empty corridors," then smiling to himself made his way back into his classroom.

---

It was at lunch when curiosity got the best of Hermione. 

Potions had been particularly rough for the Gryffindors due to Harry and Draco's late arrival and even Ron was hesitant to talk during the class. After Potions, Hermione hurried off to Ancient Ruins and didn't meet up again with Harry and Ron until after Transfiguration. All the while she was wondering what happened with Harry and Draco, and more importantly, she wanted to know if it would mean that Harry was over complaining about Draco stalking him all the time. 

"What happened before Potions?" Hermione finally asked. 

"Malfoy attacked me. I agreed to meet him later. Nothing much," Harry said casually between bites of his sandwich. 

Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, "Nothing much?" 

"Yeah. If it'll get him to stop following me around all the time then it's worth it."

"I don't know what you are all worked up about, Harry. If Malfoy was following me around I would love it," Seamus threw in, joining the conversation. 

Next to him a throat cleared. 

"That is," he amended laughing nervously, "if I didn't already have such a wonderful boyfriend."

Dean pushed Seamus out of the way and leaned over the table ignoring his boyfriend in favor of the details of Harry's love life. "So details! When are you meeting him? Where? What are you gonna do? Do you have any lube?" 

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to be needing lube any time soon, Dean, but it's good to know you're looking out for my well-being."

"Hey, that's what friends are for."

"So that's why the Gryffindors are so close. They hand out lube to each other." 

Harry and Ron spun around to glare at Draco.

"Was there something you wanted, Malfoy, or are you just in the habit of intruding on other people's conversations?" Ron asked.

"Funny, but I was sure that I was involved in that conversation in some way." He smirked at Dean and Seamus and then glanced at Harry before turning back to Ron, "And yes, I do have a reason for being here. It seems that I have the matter of a date to arrange with one Harry Potter." 

By this time the entire Gryffindor table was watching the exchange between Draco and the Gryffindor seventh years. Harry tried to slouch down in his chair but it seemed like Draco was trying to make this a painful production.

"So, Potter, when shall we have our little get together?"

"Whenever," Harry snarled. 

Draco leaned down and Harry could feel his breath on the back of his neck. Draco brought his voice down to a whisper, "Tonight then. Where the Mirror of Erised was. You know where I mean." 

And with that Draco walked out of the dinning room leaving Harry with goose bumps and staring blankly at his half eaten sandwich. 

---

"Sod off!" 

Draco lowered his feet from off the table and leaned forward in his chair. From outside the door a litany of swearing could be heard along with some sort of scuffle. Draco smiled as the door finally opened to revel a seething Harry flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"So kind of you to join me," Draco welcomed.

"Was this absolutely necessary? I would have come on my own."

"One can never be too careful with these things, you know."

"Well now that I'm here can you call off the Brute Squad?" Harry asked pointing at the hulking figures on either side of him. 

Draco laughed and dismissed Crabbe and Goyle and gestured for Harry to have a seat. Harry threw himself into the chair across the table from Draco and stared at him moodily.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked after a brief silence.

"Beyond having me escorted here by Crabbe and Goyle?" Draco nodded in response. "Just remembering a little incident at lunch wherein you outed me to the entire Gryffindor house and probably some of Ravenclaw as well."

"Oh, come off it. They would have found out soon enough as it is."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, if we are going to be dating..."

"Whoa. I said nothing about dating you, Malfoy."

"Harry, just admit that we would be amazing together. You know it as well as I do." 

Harry tried to hide a blush by pointedly staring at his hands that were resting in his lap. But lap made him think of crotch, which made him think of sex, which made him think of Malfoy. Harry's eyes shot up and he glared at Malfoy for the sole reason of attempting to fool himself into thinking he still hated Malfoy. 

"Look, just relax okay? We can just sit here and have a normal conversation, all right?"

"I guess," Harry sighed and gave in.

"Good. I'll ask you a question then you can ask me one and so on."

"Whatever," was the halfhearted reply.

"What's it like living with the Muggles?"

Harry looked at Draco in surprise. He was expecting a question more along the lines of "Boxers or Briefs?" but this? This was personal. Draco was actually serious when he said he wanted to know Harry better. 

"I hate it," Harry finally admitted.

"But," Draco looked confused, "you're always about, well, saving them and stuff. If you hate it so much why do you? I don't understand."

"You have never met my family. I would hate them no matter what they were: Muggles, Squibs, Wizards, whatever. But not all of them are like that. Hermione's parents are really great, actually. Decent people." Harry grew silent.

"What's wrong with your family, Harry?"

"It's no longer your turn," Harry said to avoid the question. "Why did you become a Jr. Death Eater?"

"Didn't have much of a choice, really. It wasn't something I wanted to do but it just sort of happened. I mean, have you seen the Death Eater Brand(TM) robes?" 

Harry laughed and reached for the pumpkin juice in front of him. 

"What?" Draco questioned. 

"Of all the things that are wrong with the Death Eaters," Draco made a move to tell Harry something, "Scrabble and Dough-knuts aside, that is, you complain about their robes?"

"They are hideous!" Draco exclaimed in defense then quickly settled back down when he realized it was his turn again. "What are they like, your family?" 

Harry gulped down the rest of his pumpkin juice and poured himself another cup, drinking half before answering. He really wasn't thirsty but it was a good way to stall for time.

"They, uh, well," Harry was at somewhat of a loss. He never talked about his family. Not even to Ron and Hermione. "I used to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs. My cousin is as big as a whale, my uncle is a bastard and my aunt has a horsed face."

"Um, what?" 

Harry went on to ramble about parts of his childhood all the while nervously drinking his pumpkin juice unsure of why he was spilling his guts out to Malfoy of all people. Draco, for his part, was completely shocked at the turn of events. He knew that the Muggles that Harry lived with weren't anything like his parents, but this was ridiculous. He also briefly noted that Harry was consuming a lot of his spiked pumpkin juice and wondered if he mentioned that fact to Harry.

Harry stopped his rambling and bluntly asked, "Have you ever slept with Snape?"

Draco choked on his pumpkin juice, "What?"

Harry giggled, "I was trying to figure out why he favors you so much."

"No. God. No. I have never slept with Snape. Nor do I ever want to," He paused. "Although, I have an odd suspicion that something happened between him and my father." 

Harry broke down in giggles and ended up sliding off his chair and sitting on the floor.

"Harry, are you okay?" Draco asked fighting back laughter.

"I. Am. So. Drunk." Harry laughed then stopped and gave what Draco he hoped was a glare. "Why am I drunk?"

"Did I fail to mention that the pumpkin juice was spiked?" Draco asked. 

Harry lay down on the floor and Draco went and sat down next to him. They sat in silence for a bit before Harry just burst out laughing again.

"What, may I ask, do you find so funny?" Draco asked leaning over Harry.

"If you, you know, did fuck Snape," Harry started but couldn't finish because he was laughing too hard. Harry struggled to sit up right and he looked carefully at Draco as his laughter subsided. He moved closer to Draco.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, I think I could date you," Harry said off handedly. 

Draco smirked and moved in to kiss Harry.

"That is," Harry continued causing Draco to pull back a bit in confusion. "If you don't ever fuck Snape."

"I think I can manage," Draco said against Harry's mouth. 

Harry sighed into the kiss. It was better than he thought it would be, but Draco seemed to be full of surprises lately and Harry didn't altogether mind anymore.

Somewhere in the back of Draco's mind a victory dance was being done but he chose to ignore it and focus on getting Harry's robe unclasped. After a few tries Harry was sitting on Draco lap with his robe off and his shirt being slowly unbuttoned. Their mouths had hardly been apart and that was only to kiss some other part of the body. 

Before Harry realized it, he was at Draco's mercy with his pants opened and Draco reaching inside. However, the act of Draco touching him proved too much for Harry's inebriated state and his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out. 

Draco was at a loss. Harry wasn't supposed to pass out. The night was not supposed to end like this. He looked down at Harry's undone pants.

"You know he would have wanted it if he had been sober," part of Draco mind told him. "He wants you to continue."

"Draco Malfoy! You wouldn't think of it. You actually like Harry, remember?" The other half argued. 

Draco stared at Harry's half naked body. "Fuck! What would a Wizard Scout do?" 

And that part of the brain that Draco wanted to ignore despite the fact that he knew it was right spoke up, "A Wizard Scout probably wouldn't have gotten him drunk in the first place."

"Shit." 

-end part 6- 

This is Agent M signing off.


	7. Lunch and Leather

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad   
Author: Agent M (loveofhavok@colourovers.net)  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: Draco/Harry, various others  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: **Tainted Wings** (www.colourovers.net/wings) and **The Underground** (http://members.aol.com//michirublade//index.html) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything. And 'yay' to anyone who noticed the small random unimportant LoTR refrence in the last part. heh. I amuse myself that way...

* * *

  
The problem, Voldemort thought, was that he knew something was going on behind his back. It wasn't anything new, really, but it annoyed him to no end. He wished they would be more discreet about it, but these were Death Eaters he was talking about and Voldemort had long ago learned not to expect too much from them. 

Voldemort suspected Lucius was behind the most recent attempt at betrayal, as he seemed to be sneaking around more than usual and had been caught practicing the "evil eye" in a hall mirror. It wouldn't be much of a shock to him if he found it was Lucius; the man loved attention and really could pull off the aloof uninterested thing. 

The thing that really bothered Voldemort was that he had no idea what Lucius was planning, if he was indeed behind said plan. While it was fun to have a mystery once in a while, Voldemort was sure that it would be better to be in the know on this. After spending hours ranting and raving and essentially ignoring Dr. Chiron's advice of patience, understanding and "let me out of the cage", Voldemort decided to do what he normally did: take matters into his own hands. And that was why Lucius was now having an awkward lunch with Voldemort in his mansion charmed to look like a cave. 

Voldemort eyed the pale man sitting across from him. He was delicately eating a salad and pretending not to notice the presence of the Dark Lord across from him. 

"So, Lucius," Voldemort said after a while, tired of being so pointedly ignored. "How's your son?"

"I would assume the usual, but Narcissa keeps in closer contact than I do during the school year."

"I was hoping he could finish the third torture chamber soon. It's quite drab, I've noticed." Lucius nodded more out of reflex than in understanding. "Young Malfoy aside, what is going on in your life, Lucius?" 

"Uh, is this going to take long or be a total heart to heart?" Lucius asked glancing at his watch. "I have another appointment this after noon that I simply must keep." 

"Is that so, Malfoy? What, may I ask, is more important than this?"

"I'd rather not say, actually." 

Voldemort smiled to himself. He was getting somewhere with this. Lucius should confess to his scheming before the end of lunch.

"Come now, Lucius."

"Well," Lucius started with a bit of blush rising to his cheeks. "It's just that the custom leather shop in Hogsmeade is only open till four and I really do need to pick up the matching outfits that Narcissa and I ordered before they start charging me extra. It's bad enough the charge per strap and I found that out the hard way when Lupin and I…."

Voldemort held up his hand, "That's enough." 

Lucius coughed, "You did ask."

"Yes, because I wanted to know what you were planning but you don't seem to be as forth coming with information as I had hoped."

"Planning?"

"Against me, Malfoy. I'm the Dark Lord, for fuck's sake. You think you could keep something like that from me?"

"Is this a specific plan that you are referring to?" Lucius asked. 

"There's more than one?"

"Most likely," Lucius confirmed. "I've been hearing things around the Dough-Knut table at our meetings. I can't say who because of the mask, but there is definitely something going on."

"I knew I should have ordered the robes without built in masks," Voldemort mumbled. "So, there really is something going on then?" 

"Would I lie to you?" Lucius asked sincerely.

"Good point. Lucius, I need you to keep me informed on any plot against me. I would have Wormtail do it, but he's probably in on it."

"Of course," he said and smiled. Lucius just loved being in control of the situation. 

---

Lucius apparated into his study. He had gotten out of Voldemort's lair as quickly as he could after promising to send Draco over during his Easter break. Really he wanted to get out of there before Voldemort realized his own gullibility. In fact, Lucius was feeling an evil cackle coming on. 

"Bwahahahahahahah heh," Lucius stopped mid-cackle and spun around. Narcissa was leaning against the doorframe examining her nails.

"Carry on, dear. I didn't mean to interrupt your evil laughter."

"No. You ruined it. The moment is gone," Lucius said with a bit of a pout and threw himself into his desk chair. 

Narcissa rolled her eyes and sat down on the desk.

"Why don't you tell me what earned such a laugh," she suggested. 

"Voldemort was suspecting my involvement in plans to take over the word, or at least betray him in some way. Luckily, I was able to convince him that I am completely devoted to him and that there are others planning things against him."

"Are there?" 

"Probably," Lucius shrugged.

"Well, be careful, darling. He may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he is the Dark Lord."

"Look, I took care if it," Lucius insisted. "Besides, he is completely caught up in his own issues and Draco's interior design. He'll never notice." 

"Speaking of Draco, I got a letter from Caius this morning." Lucius nodded, vaguely trying to follow Narcissa's train of thought. "It had a self destruct charm on it but it said something about approval at some ball or something."

Lucius's head shot up out of his hands and he jumped up out of his seat.

"Do you know what this means?" he asked visibly excited.

"That we will get better seats for the Quidditch World Cup next year?"

"No. But that would be nice; I should look into that." Lucius said moving to make a note of it, then paused and looked momentarily confused. He shook his head to get his mind back on track. "What is means, darling, is that Caius is going to ask the heads about helping at their annual spring ball."

"They have a Ball?" she asked, intrest suddenly perked.

"I remember my father going. Apparently it's a big event where lots of negotiations are made."

"We are invited to this ball of course?" Lucius paused and considered this. To tell Narcissa that no, they probably weren't invited because his ties with The Death Eaters. Or to tell Narcissa yes, of course they were invited. Decisions, decisions. The one thing Lucius did know was that they were a step a head of the rest of the Wizarding world who would have no knowledge of the event at all unless they were invited. 

"Well," Lucius said carefully. "Who let the envelope self-destruct?"

"Then you contact Caius and find out. It was his charm that caused the self-destruct after all. If we are going I am going to need ample time to decide what to wear." 

Lucius rolled his eyes, "Yes, dear. Of course." 

Narcissa smiled and turned to leave the room. She got to the doorway and turned around, "Incidentally, did pick up our matching outfits yet?" 

---

Voldemort banged on Dr. Chiron's cage until the man woke up. 

"Tom?" he asked through a sleep-clouded voice. "Tom, it's 3:45 in the morning. Could you, maybe, come back later today? You know, when the sun is shining?" 

Voldemort ignored him and sat down in the armchair that he usual sat in only now it was facing the cage. He seemed to be pouting if his face was capable of making such an expression, but Chiron got the hint nonetheless.

"Fine," he said pulling himself into a sitting position on his bed. "What seems to be troubling you, Tom?"

"Do you ever feel like the whole world is against you? That you are just a speck in a universe of nothingness and that no matter what you do, good or bad, it won't make any difference at all?" 

Chiron rolled his eyes. Voldemort was obviously about to enter one of his paranoid rants. It was really too early to deal with this.

"Then again.. Is it possible, do you think, that I could be the center of all existence? That my sole reason for being here is to be unaware of my purpose so that the rest of the world can survive? 

"Could it be that the only thing keeping me here is my awareness of whatever it is? That without me the world would be nothing." He opened his hands as if he was going to drop something that wasn't there, "Nothing. Could it be that the reason people are against me is because I am a type of God. People will love me. People will ignore me. People will deny that I exist.

"Do you know what I mean? Is any of this reasonable?" A pause. "Chiron?" 

Chiron jerked awake when he heard his name. 

"These are all perfectly normal thoughts, Tom," he said stifling a yawn. "You, as we have discussed, like to play the victim. It's like my grandmother used to say to us when we were being melodramatic: 'the only difference between suicide and martyrdom is press coverage.'"

"What are you trying to say?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Chiron. 

"Nothing really. That's just it. You, me, we can say whatever we want and none of it matters. We are not the fibers that hold this world together. We are unimportant pawns. We all have to realize that at some point."

"No," Voldemort stated sternly as he stood up. "No, I'm not. I won't ever be that way again." 

For a moment Chiron realized that he should feel a bit worried or at least somewhat concerned by Tom's last statement but instead he just yawned, curled back up in his bed and fell back asleep. 

-end part 7-  
  
This is Agent M signing off. 


	8. Passed Out and Pissed Off

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad   
Author: Agent M (loveofhavok@colourovers.net)  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: Draco/Harry, various others  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: **Tainted Wings** (www.colourovers.net/wings) and **The Underground** (http://members.aol.com//michirublade//index.html) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything. 

* * *

Hermione stretched out across the couch, yawned and looked over at Ron. 

"Mind you, this is a completely hypothetical situation," Hermione reminded Ron who was sitting across from her in the Gryffindor common room. 

Ron looked like he was either struggling with some sort of intense personal realization or was quite constipated. In either case, Hermione was fighting back a giggle and forcing herself to give Ron a serious look. 

"It just doesn't make any sense," Ron whined. "Either you read Hogwarts: A History or you get mauled by drunken Bulgaria fans? I mean that would never happen!" 

Hermione rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. The excuses that he came up with as to not read that book were truly amazing sometimes. Most notably was when he said that if he read the book he might inadvertently cause the apocalypse. Hermione was too stunned by that excuse to even argue with him and besides, that was entirely possible considering how much Ron actually read. 

This conversation was one that they had had a million times over. Only this time it was less relaxed and comfortable due to the fact that it was the better part of midnight and Harry had yet to return from his 'date' with Malfoy. Both Ron and Hermione were deliberately avoiding that subject as neither wanted to admit that they were worried and waiting up for Harry. After all, they were still inside of Hogwarts, what's the worst that could possibly happen? 

Just as Hermione was going to suggest some other situation, there was a tapping on the widow, not unlike the one in Poe's "The Raven", she noted. Both of them turned towards the far window of the common room where the tapping seemed to come from. Ron slowly stood up and walked towards the window and carefully opened it. Ron and Hermione ducked as a giant black owl flew into the room, circled around a couple of times then dropped a note before flying out again. 

Hermione looked at Ron then at the note and slowly crawled over towards it. She picked up the note with the tips of her fingers and held it away from her, examining it carefully before finally opening it. A look of confusion spread over her face and she handed the note to Ron before standing up and looking curiously at the door. 

"Let me in?" Ron read out loud. "What do you suppose that means?" 

Hermione shrugged and made her way towards the door with Ron right behind her. She slowly pushed it open and gasped. Draco stood on the threshold with Harry's body in his arms. 

"About bloody time," Draco said. "Harry is not the lightest thing in the world."

"What the hell happened to him?!" Hermione squeaked. 

"Oh. Well, you know how tricky autoerotic asphyxiation can be," Draco said conversationally.

"What?" Ron choked out.

"Kidding, Weasley. He just passed out."

"Why, Malfoy, did Harry pass out?" 

Draco shrugged. "I spiked his pumpkin juice."

"You what?"

"Look, I would love to finish this conversation but can you, you know, let me in or something. Unless you want this to echo down the corridors, that is." 

"Fine," Hermione said moving out of Draco's way so he could bring Harry into the room. 

Draco laid Harry down on one of couches and then looked around. "Nice place you got here. A little too red for my tastes, but nice nonetheless." 

Hermione was fully prepared to argue with that statement until she remembered that Draco was an interior decorator and probably knew what he was talking about. Instead she turned the topic back to Harry. 

"So why did you spike Harry's pumpkin juice?" Hermione asked. 

"Well, I never intended for him to drink so much so fast. It was just to take the edge off things, really. I wasn't trying to take advantage of him." Ron snorted. "Fine. Don't believe me. You can ask Harry when he wakes up," Draco said settling himself into one of the giant armchairs on either side of the couch Harry was on.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ron asked outraged.

"Sitting down."

"I can see that, Malfoy, but don't you have someone else to bother, preferably in your own common room?" 

"Perhaps. But I would much rather make sure that Harry's okay first."

"Oh." 

"So, just ignore me," Draco said making himself more comfortable. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that'll happen." 

--- 

Harry woke up to the feeling that his tongue had turned into sandpaper and that someone was tap dancing inside his head. He slowly sat up and realized that he was in his common room. The fire was almost burned out but he could see three figures asleep in the room. He waited for his eyes to focus and for his mind to clear a bit before looking around. The first thing he saw was Hermione and Ron curled up together in the love seat next to the fireplace. He smiled at that before turning his attention to the chair next to the couch. His smile slipped. Why the hell was Malfoy asleep in the Gryffindor common room? 

Slowly the events of that night began to trickle back into his mind. The 'date' with Malfoy, getting completely pissed and, good god, did they snog? Harry groaned and rubbed his temples. He wasn't supposed to be excited by the idea of snogging Malfoy, but unfortunately he was. 

Harry attempted to stand up but a wave of dizziness hit him and he fell ungracefully to the floor. Ron and Hermione slept on, blissfully unaware, but the thump woke Draco.

A moment a panic swept over Draco before he remembered where he was and why he was there. And then he looked down and saw Harry sprawled out on the floor and choked back a laugh. 

"Harry?" He asked lowering himself to the floor. "Are you okay?" 

Harry looked at Draco and had to laugh. Draco's hair was standing up in the oddest angles and as Harry was used to seeing it perfectly styled this new look amused him to no end despite his steadily increasing hangover. 

"I'll take that as a 'Yes, I'm fine, Draco, thanks for asking.'" Draco said with a bit of a frown. 

"You didn't need to spike my drink, Draco. I would have, you know, anyway." 

"Could have fooled me. You've been avoiding me like Filch on a bad day for the better part of two months." 

Harry considered this. "After a while it just became more fun to watch you chase after me."

"My, my. Such a Slytherin thing to say, Potter."

"Well it was the Sorting Hat's first choice," Harry informed Draco. 

"Was it now?"

Harry nodded and Draco smiled. They met each other half way there and shared their first sweet, sober kiss. Draco pulled Harry back onto his couch kissing him the entire way, they laid down in each other's arms and fell back asleep to the sound of the other's breathing.

--- 

The next time Harry woke up it was to the sound of Neville's screeches. Harry shot up into a sitting position and immediately regretted it as last night's headache returned with a vengeance. He also regretted the loss of Draco's warmth, a thought that surprised him but was not all together unwelcome. Harry looked down at Draco who was trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes and make sense of what was going on around him. Hermione and Ron were staring at them in some combination of awe and shock.

"What is HE doing here?" Neville hollered. "And why," his voice cracked, causing both Harry and Draco to wince, "why are you sleeping with him?!" 

Harry groaned and lay back into Draco's arms and rolled away from where Neville was towering over him.

"Talk in small letters, Neville." Harry's voice was muffled from talking against Draco's neck. "Some of us are a bit hung over."

"And whose fault is that?" Hermione said coming out of shock and joining the conversation.

"I take full blame for that one," Draco admitted with a bit of pride.

"But why are you even here?" Neville asked again, losing patience.

"What I want to know is how you ended up there. Last I remember you were falling asleep in that chair," Ron said pointing across the room. 

"We talked things out last night then went back to sleep," Harry said as if that explained anything. 

"I give up!" Neville threw himself into a chair. "I'm even more confused than before."

"What is going on down here?" Seamus called from the stairs to the dorms. "Some people are still trying to sleep you know. I mean its, what, only eight--holy shit! Way to go Harry! What else did I miss? I should get up early more often…." 

"Shut up, Seamus!" Ron and Hermione yelled in unison. 

"Sorry." 

"Look, can we just forget about this. What I do is my business. Just forget this happened, okay?" Harry sat up and pulled Draco up with him.

But like most things in the world, nothing is ever that simple. For at that moment the common room door opened and McGonagall came through. She gave everyone in the room a stern disappointed look before turning her attention to Harry and Draco.

"Potter. Malfoy. Dumbledore would like to see you two in his office," she paused. "Now."

--- 

Harry and Draco followed McGonagall down the corridors with their heads bowed looking the part of ashamed students, but really they kept smiling at each other. McGonagall spent the entire walk to Dumbledore's office to lecture the boys on proper behaviors of seventh year students, not to mention one who is a prefect. Harry and Draco were more relieved than they should have been to reach the gargoyle that lead to Dumbledore's office. At least Dumbledore's voice was nice to listen to.

"Albus, I found them."

"Ah, good. I'll take it from here thank you," Dumbledore said. 

McGonagall gave Harry and Draco one last look before exiting the office. 

Dumbledore gestured to the chairs across from his desk and Harry and Draco took the hint and sat down.

"So I've been hearing some things lately, and usually I tend to stay away from student gossip but well, I'd wager you can understand why this has caught my attention." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes shining with their ever-present twinkle. "You will soon be crossing great waters." 

Harry and Draco looked at each other and then Dumbledore in confusion.

"Look boys, I know I should be punishing you for being out after hours, drinking, staying in the Gryffindor common room and everything else you two did last night, but I think that despite all of that this is a step in the right direction." Dumbledore paused and offered a dish of caramels to the boys. "You two are strong influences in your respective houses and I think it's time we took advantage of that fact."

"I'm not sure we follow," Harry admitted, ignoring the jab in the side from Draco.

"Remember to share good fortune as well as bad with your friends."

"What?"

"Just keep your eyes open for things going on, especially you Draco. Don't think we don't know you are a Jr. Death Eater." 

To say Draco was stunned was an understatement. Harry studied Dumbeldore's face for a moment. 

"Is that all, Sir?"

"Just keep me informed on any information and no punishment from last night will be administered." Dumbledore smiled. Harry and Draco moved to leave. "Oh, one other thing boys. Do either of you know why Snape has been following you around and talking to himself lately?"

---

"Christ, that was the weirdest fucking thing I've ever seen," Draco said as soon as they left Dumbledore's office and were back in the corridors.

"Yeah," Harry absently agreed. "When did Dumbledore go completely nut bar?"

"You mean he doesn't always talk like a fortune cookie?"

"No. The man has lost it for sure." Harry confirmed. 

"And what was all that about Snape? Have you noticed him following us lately?" 

They both stopped in their tracks and looked at each other, then behind them as if they could suddenly feel a presence there.

"No. But he has been acting a little odd, lately." Draco gave Harry a skeptical look. "Odder than usual, I mean." 

"Now that you mention it, I know what you mean. He's been walking around with a scroll and quill, not for taking house points or anything. It's something else... like he's writing an autobiography or something." 

They soon realized that they had walked to the great hall and by this time most of the school would be there for breakfast. Harry shrugged and walked in and towards the Gryffindor table, leaving Draco to go to the Slytherin side.

As soon as Harry sat down he was barraged with questions from everyone who had witnessed the scene in the common room that morning. Harry waited until it was quiet before he turned to Ron and asked for the pumpkin juice.

"Oh come on, Harry, just tell us what happened," Ron said handing over the juice. 

"Nothing." 

"What do you mean 'nothing'?" Hermione asked. 

"Just what it sounds like. Dumbledore didn't do anything. McGonagall, on the other hand got a good lecture out of the situation."

"So let me get this straight. You went out with Malfoy, got drunk, passed out. Then he brought you back, stayed over and all you got was a lecture from McGonagall?" Seamus asked taken aback. 

"Pretty much," Harry nodded. 

"Right on. So are you two dating now, or what?"

Harry furrowed his brow. "Actually I don't know. I should look into that."

Harry then turned his attention to his English muffin and ignored all further questions. After a bit he turned to Ron and Hermione.

"We need to talk," he said and left the table. 

-end part 8-

this is agent me signing off.


	9. Stealing Ideas and Spying Idiots

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad   
Author: Agent M (loveofhavok@colourovers.net)  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: Draco/Harry, various others  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: **Tainted Wings** (www.colourovers.net/wings)   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and sent me love notes. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything. 

* * *

Lucius stood in the center of the room attempting to direct the chaos going on around him. Stumpy and the other house elves were struggling to move all of the furniture out of the parlor and at the same time bringing in the giant organ that was normally kept in the attic. Narcissa was moving around the sidelines dressed from head to toe in black tulle sprinkled with little diamonds that sparkled with her every move. The trick was getting all of the antique furniture out of the room without damaging the hardwood floors. Without making too much noise. Without taking too long. House elves are good at doing a total of none of the above.

Lucius rubbed his temples with his fingers and pinched his eyes tightly shut. He was at the end of his nerves and all he wanted was the damn organ in the room so that he and Narcissa could engage in one of their favourite pastimes. 

Finally, after a good half hour of Lucius barking orders at Stumpy, the organ was in place and Lucius began to play. Narcissa floated into the room and after a few notes began to sing.

"In sleep he sang to me,   
In dreams he came…   
That voice which calls to me   
And speaks my name… 

And do I dream again?   
For now I find   
The Phantom of the Opera  
Is there -  
Inside my mind…" 

Lucius picked up where Narcissa left off. 

"Sing once again with me   
Our strange duet…   
My power over you   
Grows stronger yet… 

And though you turn from me,   
To glance behind,   
The Phantom of the Opera   
Is there -   
Inside your mind…" 

Narcissa was ready to sing again when a noise at the parlor door caught her attention. Lucius stopped playing when Narcissa missed her cue and turned to see what was wrong. 

Leaning against the door jam was Caius looking quite amused at both Lucius and Narcissa's theatrics and the fact that Narcissa was wearing incredibly revealing clothing.

"Caius, when I said stop by any time today I wasn't expecting you to actually do it," Lucius admitted stepping away from the organ. "To tell you the truth, Caius, I wasn't expecting to see you until the Ball."

"The Ball? The Syndicate Ball? You know you can't… Uh, I mean." Caius paused and scratched his head. "Was that 'Phantom of the Opera' you were playing?"

"Darling," Narcissa cooed, "you are mistaken. That is a song that Lucius wrote for me years ago." 

"Really?"

"Isn't it romantic. Its like a nice old fashioned orgy without the clean-up." 

"It's just that I've heard that before when I was…"

"If you have," Lucius started cutting Caius off, "it was because I was robbed. All of my ideas are stolen from me. Especially the good ones. And do you know who does it?" 

Caius shook his head. 

"Muggles!" Lucius yelled and both Caius and Narcissa winced. 

"It's quite tragic really," Narcissa confirmed.

"I mean whose idea was it to have a light in the pantry that will turn on when you open the door? Mine! Whose idea was it to have little pieces of scrolls with a sticking spell on the back for notes? Mine! Hard pumpkin juice? Friday night strip scrabble?! Crotch-less robes?!"

"He gets like this sometimes," Narcissa whispered and Caius nodded sympathetically. 

"And what do my ideas get me? Nothing! Nothing because of those low life, no good… ARG!" Lucius turned back to the organ and pounded out a few notes. "Now, was there something you wanted, Caius or can I get back to my music of the night?"

"Actually I just came to get the final details of the plan so that I can present them at the ball this weekend." 

"Well, there's really no need for that, is there? Lucius will be there to present with you," Narcissa informed Caius.

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see the Syndicate Ball is very exclusive…." 

"Oh, don't worry I understand perfectly," Lucius confirmed giving Caius an almost pleading look, not wanting Narcissa to discover that they actually weren't invited. 

"But that isn't it…" Caius started. 

"Thank you Caius, we'll see you on Saturday." Lucius waved Stumpy over to show Caius out. He let out a sigh of relief and promised himself he would tell Narcissa that they weren't going to the ball at some point… maybe. 

He turned back to Narcissa. "Now, where were we?"

---

Remus leaned over and pulled Sirius up off the ground, brushed him off and steadied him on his feet. Sirius glared at Remus and immediately sat back down behind the bush.

"Look at them," Remus whispered, pointing across the field. 

"You look at them," Sirius countered. "I'm tired." 

"Padfoot, we came out here this morning because you wanted to make sure that Harry is okay. My idea of a good time is not standing in the bushes at ten in the morning. This was all your idea and therefore I think it should be you spying on your godson, not me."

"Moony?"

"What?"

"Shut up." 

Remus chose to ignore Sirius and instead watch the joint Care of Magical Creatures class with the Gryffindors and Slythereins. Both houses were keeping to themselves and concentrating on some sort of feathered animal. In fact, they were paying so much attention that Lupin could only see them from behind. He couldn't even be sure that he was watching the right year. 

"Oh, I give up," Remus said and lowered himself down next to Sirius. "I don't even know who I'm watching.. I don't even think that's his year. Padfoot?" Nothing. Again, louder, "Padfoot?!" 

Sirius was sprawled out on the grass with his eyes half closed, not hearing a word that Remus was saying. If he was asleep or not, Remus couldn't tell, but that didn't stop him from nudging him rather hard with his boot. 

Sirius groaned. "What is it?!"

"Get up! We have to get out of here before someone sees us."

"Oh, I think it's a little late for that," came an icy voice from behind them. "Don't you, Black?"

"Snape," Sirius snarled. 

Remus jumped up. "Severus!"

"It's always delightful to see you, Remus," Severus paused and eyed Sirius, "but what may I ask are you doing spying on my third years?" 

Sirius elbowed Remus. "See, Moony, I told you it was the wrong group." 

Remus rolled his eyes and walked off towards the castle with Snape. 

"Fine!" Sirius called. "Leave me here! Forsaking me for a man, I see how it is." 

Remus turned and glared at his best friend. "Are you coming or not, Padfoot?" 

Sirius watched the retreating figures of his best friend and rival walk away before turning himself into Padfoot and running after them towards the castle.

---

Voldemort paced back and forth in his office. He had been in a state of disarray for the past few days and Chiron was of little help to him at this point. Not only was his super secret lair not completely furnished, he was beginning to feel that he was losing influence over his Death Eaters. People just didn't have the same desire to join cults as they once did.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort called and Pettigrew appeared at his office door a few moments later. "Wormtail, have you noticed anything odd going on lately?"

"By odd you mean," a pause, "odder than usual?" 

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Yes, odder than usual, you half-wit."

"Oh. In that case, no." 

"What about potential recruits? Have we had any of those lately?"

"Not since Draco Malfoy, sir," Pettigrew reported. 

"Malfoy was the last? That was months ago!" Voldemort sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. "Why do I feel like I am the only one who cares anymore? Does this operation not matter to anyone else? Am I alone on this one?"

"Perhaps we are going about this all wrong. Maybe we need to spike the interests of the public again. Have a bake sale or something," Pettigrew suggested.

"A bake sale?" Pettigrew nodded enthusiastically. "A bake sale? You want to have a bake sale to increase interest in The Death Eaters?" 

"Yes?"

"I'm intrigued. Go on." 

"Well, everyone can bring something that they baked and we sell it. Not only do we get to keep the money but people will be more aware of us."

"Wormtail, that is a brilliant plan. I'm glad I came up with it."

"Of course, sir." 

"Now, about Malfoy. Get him to send that son of his around next week. He should be out of school by then."

"Very good, sir."

"Oh, and Wormtail?"

"Yes?"

"Remind the Death Eaters that sleeping draught is not an acceptable ingredient."

--- 

"He did what?!" Sirius yelled. Across from him Remus and Severus slid their chairs backwards a good foot away from the table small wooden table. 

Tea had started out well enough if you don't count the constant glaring and rude comments that were thrown between Sirius and Severus the entire time. Remus was strategically ignoring their antics and attempting to get information out of Severus on Harry's situation. 

Eventually, after getting Sirius to shut up long enough to hear the details, Severus recounted the events of the other night telling them about Harry and Draco's date and how Draco had spent the night in the Gryffindor common room. And that's when Sirius exploded. 

"I know. The Gryffindor common room is hardly the place to end a first date," Severus agreed. 

"That's not what I meant, Snape and you know it," Sirius cried, pushing away from the table and marching towards Severus. "I just can't believe Harry. I thought I had brought him up better than this."

"Um, Padfoot, you didn't actually bring up Harry at all," Lupin reminding Sirius, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"Oh, yeah. Well, that's obviously the problem then, isn't it?" 

"Oh, obviously," Severus replied, rolling his eyes. "But what about that time that you and Lucius did that…" 

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Sirius interrupted, ignoring Remus' laughter. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't spread such rumors about me in the future."

"What rumor?" Severus asked receiving an elbow in the side from Remus. 

"That's enough, you two." Remus said cutting off further arguments. "The question is what are we going to do about this, if anything." 

Remus, Sirius and Severus looked at each other blankly. Remus bit his lip in concentration. Sirius scratched his head looking up at the ceiling. Snape had one arm crossed over his stomach and the other one at his mouth.

"Is there anything we really can do?" Remus asked eventually.

"I just don't want him poncing around with a Death Eater," Sirius insisted. 

"Jr. Death Eater," Severs corrected. 

"Whatever. The point is that it could be dangerous."

"Black does have a point as much as I hate to admit it." Severus said. Sirius smiled smugly. "But until something happens there is nothing much we can do but watch and wait."

"At least you'll be able to watch them, Severus. How much trouble can the possibly get into at Hogwarts?"

"You should know, Remus," Severus said with a smile. "You of all people should know." 

Realization hit Remus leaving him with a half worried half shocked look.

"Precisely," Severus nodded. 

"Shit."

"Exactly." 

-end part 9-

this is Agent M signing off.


	10. Dumbledore and Double Oh Draco

Title: I Will Be Good At Making Bad part 10  
Author: Agent M   
Rating: PG-13 (for now)   
Pairings: Draco/Harry, various others  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: **Tainted Wings** (www.colourovers.net/wings)   
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and sent me love notes. It means a lot to me that you like my crap. Thanks to VinylNoMiko, my muse and beta reader, for everything. Random _Dr. Strange Love_ refrences abound. 

* * *

Hermione and Ron looked at the doors to the great hall that Harry had just made his exit through. They looked at the doors, then at each other, and then ran after their friend. They were both panting when they reached the Fat Lady and spat out the password ("Jabberwocky") before running up to the boys dormitory where they found Harry sitting calmly on the floor surrounded by scrolls and pieces of parchment. Hermione and Ron leaned against the door, catching their breath and Harry seemed to ignore them.

"H-harry, what are you doing?" Ron asked a bit winded. 

"Just looking over the Order of Phoenix stuff," Harry answered casually. 

"What are doing that for?"

"Well, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you guys about," Harry explained. "I think we should let Draco in." 

"In?" Hermione asked. "Like, into the Order?"

"Yes, Hermione. That's exactly what I mean. I think that's what Dumbledore was hinting at this morning." 

"Harry! He's a Death Eater! Are you crazy?" Ron yelled. 

"Jr. Death Eater," Harry corrected. "And no, I'm not crazy. I think we need to show him all this stuff."

"We can't do that! Then he'll see the…" Ron looked around the room, "the big board." 

Harry looked behind him to the giant board that Ron was pointing to. It was a lot like the Marauders Map. It had dots for everyone in the Order that was outside of Hogwarts like Aurors and spies, showing where they are at all times, unless they were in a place like Hogwarts that was magically protected. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "That, Ron, is the point." 

Ron turned to Hermione, "What do you think about all this?"

"Do you trust him, Harry?" She held up her hand, stopping Harry from answering her until she was finished. "I mean really trust him. Beyond this 'crush' or whatever it is between you two. Do you think he would betray you?" 

Harry paused and thought about all the rotten, no good things that Draco had done to him over the years. He thought about each one, and while they were mean, they were pranks, jokes, and the antics of a teenage boy. Nothing in Harry's memory stood out as Draco actually wanting to harm him. Even that encounter at the Quidditch World Cup when he had the opportunity to give Harry, Ron and Hermione to the Death Eaters, Draco had let them go. He had told them to run, even. 

Harry thought about all of this and answered.

"Yes, Hermione. I trust him. Fully."

"Then you know what's best, Harry," Hermione said with a slight smile.

"How can you agree to this?" Ron asked, outraged.

"Ron, trust me. I know what I'm doing." Ron forced a laughed. 

"Why does that make me extremely nervous?"

--- 

After Harry had talked to Ron and Hermione about wanting to let Draco into the Order he had to talk to Dumbledore and then to Draco himself. He was pleased that he was going to be allowed to let Draco into the Order and he really felt that Draco could help in a lot of ways. Being a Jr. Death Eater was a major plus, of course, but there was also the connections that came with the name Malfoy. 

Harry was also glad that he and Draco had come to, well, an understanding wasn't the right word and he wasn't sure if they were in a relationship yet. But whatever it was Harry liked it. He had sinking feeling that he was going to need Draco on his side soon. He had this feeling that something was brewing; that something was going to happen. He just wasn't sure what it was yet. 

Harry didn't have time to ponder that, however, for on his way to Dumbledore's office he ran directly into Draco. 

"Fancy meeting you here, Harry," Draco drawled with a smirk. 

Harry looked around. He was still in the corridors near Gryffindor Tower, not a place where he would accidentally bump into Draco. 

"I was just coming up to find you," Draco said noticing Harry's confusion. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. You really high-tailed it out of the Great Hall earlier. Is something wrong?"

"Are we dating?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He looked at Draco with his eyes wide and full of shock. 

"Do you want to date me, Harry?" Draco asked softly, almost seductively.

"Yes," Harry said quietly, suddenly aware that he was lacking that Gryffindor confidence that he showed that morning. 

Draco flashed a genuine smile. "Good because I want to date you as well." 

Harry let out a sigh of relief from not being rejected and regained his earlier confidence, remembering why he wanted to talk to Draco. 

"Can we talk about something?" Harry asked, leading Draco out of the main corridor and into a smaller side one. 

"Sure, Harry we can 'talk' when ever you want," Draco said leaning in. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not what I mean." 

Draco looked disappointed. 

"Its about, well… How would you like to be a spy?"

"A spy?" 

"You know, a secret agent. Like 007." 

Draco looked confused. "Who?"

"It's a Muggle thing. He's suave and sexy and was, at one point, played by Sean Connery."

"Who?"

"Never mind. The point is, I think that's what Dumbledore was trying to tell us this morning is that you should join the Order of Phoenix."

"That is what you got out of Dumbledore's fortune cookie ramblings?" Draco asked surprised. "That he wants me to join this Order and be a secret agent?"

"Basically," Harry confirmed.

"And as a secret agent do I have to wear a uniform or anything?" 

"No…"

"No Death Eater Brand™ style robes?" 

"No."

"Great." Draco grinned. "I'm in."

"You can agree that fast?" Harry asked shocked. "You're willing to just go against your father and everything he stands for?"

"Harry, you've never been to a Death Eater meeting. Trust me, its not all that. Plus, this sounds like more fun." 

Harry rolled his eyes and they began to walk down the halls together in silence heading for Dumbledore's office. Harry was trying not to look at Draco as they walked and he could feel Draco watching him.

"You're sure about this?" Harry asked, stopping outside of Dumbledore's office. 

"Yes." Draco answered sternly.

"Is there something you boys wanted?"

Harry and Draco spun around to find Dumbledore giving them a rather amused look. Behind him they noticed a swish of black robes as someone dashed down a corridor. Harry and Draco shared a look before turning to Dumbledore.

"I've been thinking about what you said this morning, sir." Harry said. 

"Very good, Harry. Very good, indeed. Toffee Chews." The gargoyle jumped aside and Dumbledore lead Harry and Draco into his office where they had sat just hours before. "And how does Mr. Malfoy feel about this?" Dumbledore smiled at Draco. 

"I'm in." 

"Excellent. You will soon bring joy to someone." Draco looked confused. Harry looked amused. "Harry, I trust you will bring him up to speed, yes?" 

Harry nodded.

"We have word of something that you two and Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger might be interested in. It seems that there is a giant ball being held this weekend. Witches and Wizards from all over, who are of very high social status, will be in attendance, and we think it would be for the best if you were all there. You two, of course will be recognized, but Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will be perfect."

"A ball sir? What kind of information could we gather at a ball?" Harry asked. 

"You have no idea, Harry," Draco said examining his nails. They needed to be repainted. Silver this time, perhaps. "Events like that always are a cover up for something."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very good, Draco. This is why I wanted you as part of the team." Draco caught Harry's eye and smiled. "I'll send full details to you when I receive them from my contact. You two go on and enjoy your weekend."

"Thank you, sir." 

Harry and Draco left Dumbledore's office and Draco's hand found Harry's as they walked back towards Gryffindor Tower. 

"Well, he only had one really wonky phrase this time, at least." 

"Yeah," Harry said somewhat distantly. 

Draco stopped walking. "What's wrong?" 

"I'm trying to figure out how to get you into Gryffindor Tower."

"I just walked in last time. Can't I just do it again?"

"It didn't go over that well, if you remember correctly," Harry pointed out. 

"Oh, who cares?" 

Harry gave Draco a big smile. "Your right. Who cares?"

"That's the attitude, Harry!" 

---

Neville squeaked the moment that Draco walked into the Gryffindor common room and hid behind one of the chairs. Draco, after seeing Harry's look of warning, tried to hide his laughter behind his hand as Neville called for Ron and Hermione. The two of them came running down to the common room but just rolled their eyes and sat down when they saw Harry and Draco standing there. 

"Neville, you can come out now. He isn't going to hurt you, I promise." 

"Harry, are you mad?" Neville called.

"I sure as hell think so," Ron muttered. 

"Fine. Stay behind the chair. We'll be up in the dorms." Harry pulled Draco towards the stairs. 

"You too," he said waving Ron and Hermione over.

They entered the 7th year boy's dorm and locked the door behind them. 

"Dumbledore has a mission for us," Harry informed Ron and Hermione.

"A mission? We've never done a mission before," Hermione pointed out. 

"What do we have to do?" 

"I don't have full details yet, but we have to go to a ball."

"Grand." 

-end part 10-

_this is agent m signing off._


End file.
